A Ripping Yarn
by Mitanika
Summary: Callie's visiting London where she discovers women are being murdered in a way that's startlingly reminiscent of the Ripper's handiwork. Enter two brothers who are equally as suspicious of the killer. Please review, it's my first fic!
1. Chapter 1

Callie continued to wait at the airport. Her brother was late but she was used to that. She sensed a ripple in the crowd and turned towards what was causing the commotion. A policeman was striding towards her. She could feel people staring at her, wondering what she possibly could have done to deserve a police escort at the airport. Her brother in his police uniform hugged her fiercely, leaning back and lifting her off the ground, causing her to smile. The few people looking in their direction, sensing a scene was not about to happen, turned away.

"Sorry, I'm late" he apologised. "Duty called"

"I should hope so. I mean, that's what you're here for after all"

Jim began pushing her trolley for her towards the exit. As a cold blast of air hit them on their way out, he smiled mischievously at her. "Welcome to England" he said in his best English accent.

Callie ignored him and fumbled in her backpack for her scarf.

* * *

It took them a couple of hours to reach Jim's place but the siblings chatted away. They had a lot to catch up on. The house was right smack bang in the middle of London. It was only a little house but it went up two stories. The second floor had been made into an apartment and that was where Jim had been staying. The owners of the house had thought it was sweet that Jim's sister was visiting him from America. Their own children didn't get on at all and the noise from the arguments would waft up to the apartment. Jim lugged the bags upstairs while Callie trailed behind.

"So this is your room" Jim said as he opened the door. "Normally, it's a study but we put in a foldout bed for you".

The room was indeed on the small side but it was clean and cheaper than a hotel.

Jim then led her to his living room. He sat down with Callie taking the sofa opposite him.

"So seriously, what's it like working over here?" Callie asked.

Jim was part of an exchange programme with the NYPD and the London Metropolitan Police. Every year, both police departments put forward ten new police cadets who swapped countries. It was something to do with learning different cultural values and bridging the gap between the two forces. That was the official line. Basically, it meant that Jim got to be a cop in London for a couple of months.

"It's ok. You don't have to worry about guns as much. But sometimes people don't take me seriously because of my accent. I'm dressed like a regular London bobby but I sound like an American" he replied.

"Well if that's the least of your troubles, then I guess you're doing alright" Callie said.

Jim smiled and nodded. "Do you want dinner before we head out?"

* * *

"Wait, where are we going?" Callie asked cautiously. She was tired from travelling and the last thing she wanted was to follow her older brother onto some crazy night out.

"Just a few drinks with some friends of mine from work"

"Famous last words" Callie muttered.

Jim smiled sweetly at her.

The pub was crowded. There was a soccer match on and most of the patrons were watching the game. It was certainly boisterous but it was all good natured. Callie followed Jim over to a table which was populated exclusively with guys. She could tell that these guys were police. Although they were off duty, there was a certain something to the way they held themselves and they still had that watchfulness in their eyes. It was nice to know some things never changed no matter where you went in the world. Jim pulled up a chair for himself and his sister. All eyes were on Callie. She wondered how much Jim had said about her. Hopefully nothing.

"So… you're Jim's little sister" one of them said.

Callie nodded. "I see my reputation precedes me".

Jim went off to get her a drink and there was silence. Callie couldn't think of a single thing to say and from the way they were all staring at her, they were waiting for her to say something. All she could think to talk about was an article she'd been reading on her way to England about sewerage pipes (_what? It had been a long flight and there was nothing else to read_). Unable to stand the silence anymore, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Sorry we're late. Long story"

Callie turned her head to look at the speaker. It was the American accent that had caught her by surprise.

The speaker was a tall guy with floppy brown hair. He pulled up a chair opposite Callie and sat down.

"Callie, right?" He got half out of his seat and leaned across the table to Callie, holding out his hand. "Hey, I'm Sam"

She took it, amused at his sense of formality.

"Who took all the chairs?" a voice called out from across the room.

From where Callie was sitting, she could see him as he walked towards the table. He was honestly the hottest guy she'd ever seen in her life. He caught her staring and returned the look with a smirk.

"That's Dean, my brother" Sam explained, as Dean went over to an already occupied table to try and sweet talk a chair from them.

"So are you guys on the exchange programme too?" Callie asked.

"No, we're just over here and we met these guys one night and got on really well" Sam replied.

"You're on vacation then?" Callie asked.

Sam opened his mouth to reply but Dean cut in before he could. "Something like that" he said with an easy smile.

Callie could _not_ get over how hot this guy was. Jim sharply put her drink down in front of her. She looked up at him, startled. He raised his eyebrows in a 'not you too?' expression. She rolled her eyes at him.

Although she hadn't wanted to come out that night, she was glad she had. Once the group of guys were used to the newcomer, the conversation got going and Callie had never laughed so much in her life. Just as Callie was about to get another drink, Jim placed a hand on her arm, stopping her.

"We should probably get going" Jim said.

Callie looked at her watch, surprised. The jet lag must have messed her around more than she'd thought, she wasn't tired at all. Her watch read 21:30. "Is my watch right?" she asked, holding it out to the group.

People were too busy gathering up coats and finishing their drinks to answer her query. Callie frowned in thought. 9.30 was way too early to be heading home. Maybe London policing had hit Jim harder than she'd realised.

"We can walk you to your car," Sam said.

Jim nodded. "Thanks". He seemed genuinely grateful of the offer.

"What's going on?" Callie asked, moving around the group to get to Jim. "We parked a block away"

"I'll tell you when we get home" Jim told her quietly. He looked at Callie's stricken face. "It's ok, nothing to worry about her" he reassured her.

* * *

As the rest of the group settled up their tab at the bar, Callie made her way over to Sam. Maybe it was the fact that he was also American, but they'd gotten on really well that night. She was hoping he'd be the one to give her a straight answer.

"What's with the mass trek to the car?" she asked.

He looked slightly awkward. "Just part of your friendly neighbourhood service"

"You don't look very comfortable when you lie" she said.

He surprised her by breaking into a wide smile. "I never really get used to it"

"Come on, Sammy, plenty of time for girl talk later" Dean said, moving past them and bumping Sam with his shoulder. Dean kept one hand in his pocket as he moved out into the crisp night air.

"Sam!" Sam corrected under his breath in a frustrated tone.

Callie grinned and followed them outside. It looked funny as Dean led the way with her and Jim in the middle with Sam bringing up the rear. All to walk one block to get their car.

"Is there like a wild cat or something on the loose?" Callie asked playfully.

Jim shook his head. "Nothing so exciting as that"

"Everyone in London has to be home by 9.30 and we broke curfew?" she continued her guessing.

Jim shot her a look. Callie shrugged.

They reached the car uneventfully and got in.

"Maybe we'll see you around?" Callie asked.

"Oh you'll definitely see us around" Dean flirted.

Callie bit back a smile at Dean's overkill at the flirting and waved goodbye to Sam.

* * *

As soon as they were safely inside the house, Callie rounded on Jim. "Now you _have_ to tell me what that was all about" she said.

He sighed. "Ok, fine. You know anything about Jack the Ripper?"

"Jack the Ripper as in the Victorian serial killer in London?" Callie asked.

Jim nodded. "Well, for the last few months, girls have been turning up, killed with a similar MO- strangulation resulting in a loss of consciousness. Then the throat is cut and the body mutilated"

Callie frowned slightly. "How come I haven't heard anything about it… this sounds like big stuff"

"It's taken a while to put it all together. A random killing here and there, it's only lately that the guy has been stepping up the murders and we've managed to connect them. And this guy's good. There is absolutely no trace evidence left at the crime scene. The only way we could ever possibly catch him is if we caught him in the act."

"So things aren't exactly looking good for you" Callie said.

"No, our prospects are actually looking up. He's starting to get sloppy, the last few weeks, cops have heard screaming and only got there a minute too late, or it was a spot that they'd just patrolled"  
Callie repressed a shiver. "That's really creepy. Are they sure he's not getting over confident instead?"

"That's one of the theories. But you wanna hear the weirdest part?" Jim leaned in and lowered his voice. Callie felt herself unconsciously lean in as well. "The last two girls killed both had their boyfriends with them. And both boyfriends don't remember a single thing yet they were covered in blood spatter"

"Are the guys in custody?" Callie asked.

"The forensics picked up that the blood spatter correlated as if the guys were standing right next to the victim when they were killed. It's virtually impossible to kill someone in that way from a side angle"

"So it's like they just stood there and watched…" Callie trailed off.

"Nothing connects either man to the string of murders or to each other. Both have alibis for the other murders and they maintain their innocence. Based on their statements and the forensic evidence, we had to let them go"

"And that explains the uneasiness, this guy isn't afraid of attacking accompanied women" Callie pointed out.

Jim nodded. "We've managed to keep a lot of this stuff in-house, can you imagine if the papers got a hold of the fact that there was a Jack the Ripper copycat lurking out there"

"And of course, all this young girl slaughtering _would_ coincide with my first ever trip to London"

"You may be a New Yorker but you've definitely got the luck of the Irish"


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, when Callie got up, Jim had already left for work. Callie was bummed because she'd wanted to see him in his uniform but then she consoled herself with the fact that she'd see him when he got home.

She had a list a mile long of monuments and places she wanted to visit. It was a list that may have daunted a less adventurous person but Callie was a firm believer in trying to get _everything_ done.

It was a little after lunchtime when she first spotted the sign. She looked at it for a long moment. It made her Spidey senses tingle. She might not have ever come across it if she hadn't taken a wrong turn. That in itself seemed like a clear indication that she was supposed to be here. She wasn't quite sure what to expect but she pushed aside any uneasiness and walked into the building that was under the sign of "Jack the Ripper Ghost Tour & Museum".

It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness in the room. There was an unattended ticket counter in the corner and behind that, a closed door which led into a backroom.

She was torn. Since she was now apparently into believing in signs, maybe this was a sign that she should just leave. She sighed and then before she could stop herself, she walked over to the counter and rang the small silver bell.

The back door opened sharply and out tumbled Sam and Dean. The three stared at each other. Callie knew that Sam and Dean had no right to be in that back room and the boys knew that she knew.

"What are you doing behind the desk?" a voice asked.

A man appeared from the entrance into the inner museum. Although he was well over seventy, time had not caused his back to bend nor his eyes to dim. He was staring accusingly at the boys.

"Sir, we're reporters for our local newspaper back in Kansas and while we were in London, we were hoping to do a piece on your museum" Dean glibly said, moving around from behind the desk and going towards the man with an outstretched hand.

Callie raised an eyebrow. Newspaper reporters?

The man relaxed somewhat. "So you've heard of us over in America, then? You'll be wanting a guided tour through the museum?"

Sam nodded. "That would be great. There are a few artefacts we're particularly interested in"

"Adam Cowell" the man introduced himself and then seemed to notice Callie for the first time. "I see that you've brought a lady friend along as well. How… romantic"

"Who says you can't mix business with pleasure?" Dean chuckled, putting his arm around Callie's waist and making her walk with him behind Adam.

Callie wasn't quite sure how she felt, suddenly being roped into what appeared to quite possibly be criminal activity. But then again, she didn't exactly mind Dean's hand on her waist. The good and bad parts cancelled each other out.

The 'museum' was a single large-ish room. The walls were covered in information regarding the possible identity of the mysterious Jack the Ripper. In the middle of the room was a diorama of Victorian England with each crime scene painstakingly recreated in miniature. It was interesting to note how geographically close all the crime scenes were. Whoever the killer was, he definitely worked in an area he knew. Dotted around the room were various objects on stands.

Sam immediately went over to the far side of the room and began poring over the information on the wall. Dean began looking at each object in turn, starting with a rusty knife, followed by a genuine newspaper article from the first Jack the Ripper killing. Callie decided to play along and walked over to another wall and began reading a timeline of the murders.

"Why do you think he stopped?" Callie asked, breaking the silence after a few moments.

"I don't think he suddenly got a change of heart, if that's what you mean" Adam responded. "The common idea is that he was arrested for an unrelated crime, possibly even executed for it because the crimes didn't reoccur if he was ever released. And somebody like that can never stop. Some think he moved away to another area, maybe another country but we never heard of horrific crimes to the scale of Jack anywhere else. I believe he died before he could turn on his next victim"

"You sound like an FBI profiler" Callie smiled.

He shrugged. "You have to be in this vocation. There's no evidence left anymore, it's all dust. Instead you have to rely on what you know of human emotions and egos"

"And now you sound like a true Ripperologist" Sam added.

Adam looked impressed. "I see you've done your homework, young man"

"Just like any good reporter" Callie said, fixing Sam with a stare.

Adam pottered around the diorama, ignoring the "Do Not Touch" sign, which he had most likely put there himself, and gently moved figurines around. He seemed immersed in what he was doing, giving Callie the opportunity to question the boys.

"So… reporters, huh?" Callie asked sceptically.

Sam glanced at her from the poster he was reading. "Yeah"

From his tone, Callie could tell he wasn't paying much attention to her but was trying to gather as much information as possible from the poster.

"This must be one hell of a story. You coming all the way to England for it" she tried again.

"We didn't come just for the story. We had some family business to take care of as well"

"Relatives?"

Sam nodded. It was clear he didn't want to talk about this. It was a drastic change from the warm, funny person that she'd spoken to last night. Maybe he was weirded out that she'd interrupted him trespassing. She decided to drop it for the time being and moved away from him and over to a section on the far wall.

"This stuff doesn't freak you out" Dean asked, sidling up behind Callie and standing a little too close.

"My dad worked Homicide when I was a kid. I've seen worse". She peered at the crime scene photos. "Actually, I probably haven't seen worse but these pictures are too grainy to make out specific details"

"Your dad's a cop?"

"My brother too. Does that make you nervous?" Callie teased.

"Not half as nervous as the fact that a girl we just met decided to cover for us when we were clearly breaking and entering" His eyes hardened. "You being related to cops and all" he continued.

Callie got a glimpse that maybe Dean wasn't as harmless as he first appeared. She knew one way out of this situation. "Maybe I just can't resist a criminal" she play flirted, batting her eyelashes.

And with a snap, the Dean she was used to was back with an equally flirtatious smile. He opened his mouth to say something when Adam interrupted.

"I take it you'll be coming to the ghost tour later? We begin in just over an hour. Perhaps you can have a meal beforehand, there's a lovely little café just round the corner. I can wait until you return before I leave for the tour"

Dean and Sam shared a look. Dean shook his head slightly but it was Sam that spoke. "We've actually got some more work to do for the piece but thank you for inviting us. It was very kind of you but we should probably get going"

"But I insist! There's no better way to get to know the real Jack than by treading in his footsteps"

Dean shrugged. "Alright" He paused. "Now where exactly did you say this café was?"

* * *

"Ok, the full story- straight up" Callie stated.

They were all sitting at the café around the corner from the museum.

"We're reporters. Honest" Dean held his hand up in the Scout's Honour pose.

"Why do I get the distinct impression you're not telling the truth then?" Callie asked.

"Maybe because you're a natural born cynic" Dean responded lightly.

"Ok, ok" Sam said, trying to calm down the situation before it got out of hand. "I think we can act civil for the next hour, go on that ghost tour and then we'll go our separate ways, alright?" he said, looking at everyone gathered round the table.

Callie sipped her tea. The English sure did know how to make a good cuppa.

As the hour passed quickly, Callie forgot that she wasn't supposed to trust these two.

* * *

"Ah, you're here, now we can begin" Adam stated as they came around the corner. He was standing with a group of about twenty people, all waiting to go on the Jack the Ripper Ghost Tour. Seeing that they were ready to go, he began handing out photos of the crime scenes to help get people in the right frame of mind. Callie found it all a bit ghastly. Even though it had happened a hundred years ago, it was still real people that had been butchered. Adam began walking off in the direction of their first stop, his animated voice carrying in the cool night air. Callie was just glad it was summer and that it wasn't as dark as if they'd come in winter. She didn't know why she was letting this get to her. She'd even been on a New York ghost tour and that hadn't phased her one bit. Aside from the part where a homeless guy had inadvertently startled them by appearing from behind a trash can but that didn't count.

Callie noticed Sam was looking around carefully at all the various sites.

"Hoping to spot a ghost?" she smiled.

He smiled back weakly but didn't answer.

She frowned slightly. "You seem nervous"

"What can I say? Ghosts have that effect on me"

"You don't seriously believe in ghosts?"

He looked at his feet before laughing harshly. "No, no, only in the things that I can see and touch"

She wasn't going to get much conversation out of him so she moved over towards the front of the group, listening to Adam's spiel.

"You scared yet?" Dean whispered in Callie's ear.

Callie gasped loudly and whirled round, hitting Dean on the arm. The assembled group chuckled at Callie's reaction, Dean most of all.

"We get that a lot" Adam adlibbed before continuing on his talk.

Callie felt, rather than saw, Dean move away from her. Neither him nor his brother were listening to Adam. It was like they were looking out for somebody or something.

* * *

Finally they made their way over to Goulston Street for their second to last stop before heading over to the Ten Bells pub where a lot of the victims had had last been seen alive. Callie recognised the name, not from the literature that she'd read up on Jack the Ripper but because it was the pub Jim had taken her to on her first night in London. Goulston Street was famous in Ripper lore because it was here that Jack had left a message to the people, scrawled in chalk on the wall of a building. It was also mysterious as all get out because the lead policeman had made his constables wash off the message before a photographer could document it. This meant that there was no definitive answer on what the message was as there were differing accounts.

At this point, Adam asked if there were any questions.

Sam raised his hand slowly. "Has anything recently happened on the tours in the last few weeks? Any ghostly occurrences?"

Adam laughed. "This _is_ a ghost tour. We welcome the supernatural" He ended that last bit with a ghoulish laugh, to which Callie had to suppress a giggle.

"No, I mean, has anyone on the tour been hurt?"

Adam shook his head, perturbed at Sam's line of questioning. "Anyone else with a question?" Everyone sort of shuffled around. "Well, if you do think of something, you can always ask me at the pub over a few pints"

She followed the group out of the darkened alleyway and made their way across the square to where the Ten Bells was. She then noticed that she wasn't being followed by the last pair in the alleyway. Sam and Dean were nowhere to be seen. She retraced her steps and saw the boys standing together closely, talking in hushed whispers. They appeared to be arguing.

'Hey, are you guys coming to the pub or what?" Callie asked. She moved closer to them so she didn't have to yell. "Considering this is our last few moments together, I'll even buy you a drink".

"We'll meet you there later. Just go on without us" Sam said hurriedly. Callie thought he almost sounded pleading.

"Look, go on after the group. Stay close with them. Go" Dean pushed Callie, causing her to stumble.

"Hey!" Callie was indignant. Nobody pushed her around.

"We don't have time fo- crap!" he said sharply, as he suddenly changed tact mid-sentence. "Sam, you watching?"

Sam pulled a sawn-off shotgun out of his deep jacket pockets. "Yeah".

Callie pulled her coat tighter around her and took a step back from Sam. She didn't know if it was the weather or the fact that she was about to get shot, but the temperature had just dropped about ten degrees.

"What's--" she tried to ask but Dean interrupted her.

"Be quiet!" he barked, cocking his own shotgun.

She glanced up quickly, as one by one, the lamplights in the alley flickered and then went off. It was like something out of a teen horror flick, a cheap scare.

"This isn't funny" Callie said.

Dean glanced at her. "I know"

The boys encircled Callie and faced outwards, guns pointed. She had absolutely no idea what was going on.

"There!" Sam yelled.

Dean turned and they both fired their guns. Callie turned in time to see a shadowy figure that disappeared before the shot could reach it.

"What the hell was that?!" Callie yelled. She knew she should be frightened of two men in a dark alley both holding guns but truth be told, she was more afraid of the sinister figure she had seen disappear right in front of her eyes.

Both Dean and Sam pocketed their guns and took one of Callie's arms each and frogmarched her out of the alley.

"Wait, _what _is going on?" Callie asked, struggling to get out of their grip. Sam's hand was tight on her arm but it didn't feel threatening. Dean's, on the other hand, was a completely different story.


	3. Chapter 3

Callie was led into the Ten Bells and they managed to avoid the rest of the tour group and found a quiet booth. Callie rubbed her arm where Dean had been holding her.

"_Now_ do I get some answers?" she asked fiercely.

"We're cops" Dean said plainly.

"You're cops?" Callie repeated bluntly. She was having a hard time believing that story. In fact she was having a hard time believing anything that came out of the brothers' mouths.

"Yeah. We're hunting a fugitive seen around here. He escaped from us once and he sure as hell ain't escaping again" Dean continued.

"Ok, that might work on some random girl in a bar but you forget, my dad was a cop. I practically grew up in a squad room." Callie smiled sweetly. "And to use a phrase borrowed from you, you sure as hell ain't cops". She paused before throwing out her trump card. "Also, when you're working internationally, you have to have a member of that particular region's police force with you. It's a legal formality to protect the local police's jurisdiction… but of course, being cops, you'd know that"

"They're coming… the back up, they're coming. They just got a little held up" Sam added.

_He is such a bad liar_ Callie thought to herself. "Then when did you call them. I've been with you all night" she said aloud.

There was an awkward silence.

"And where are your badges?" Callie asked.

"Badges? Ok, now _that _we can do" Dean said and both guys pulled out paper identification.

She pored over the identification. "Oh honey" Callie sighed, looking at both of them and shaking her head. "You're supposed to be from New Jersey. Now unfortunately for you, I know NJ. I also know cops from there. And three months ago, they changed their identification from the blue watermark"- here she pointed it out- " to a light green one" She paused. "To stop people from making fake badges and all".

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. Sam swallowed audibly.

"They kept it quiet hoping to catch a few people out" Callie continued. "Do you know how much time it is for impersonating a police officer?" She then noticed something that she hadn't seen before. She smiled, pointing at the badges. "And this- did you honestly think no one would notice?" she asked.

Dean smiled broadly. "Nobody gets that!". He looked over at Sam. "Hey, I like her"

The names on the badges were for a Detective Clarke and a Detective Kent. Clark Kent, Superman's alias.

Callie folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. "Well..?"

Dean got up suddenly from his chair and walked over to the bar. Still walking, he turned around to face his group. "We're going to need some serious alcohol for this".

* * *

"So, you're, like, ghost hunters" Callie stated, a little unsure of whether she had gotten the correct angle of their story.

"Basically, yeah" Dean responded.

Callie still looked dubious.

"Look, I know it's hard to believe but you know what you saw" Sam said.

"And you're hunting the ghost of Jack the Ripper?" Callie asked. A disbelieving note crept into her voice.

"You saw him with your own eyes" Dean said.

"I know. I'm not contesting that, I'm just saying… Jack the Ripper is back and killing people. Why can't Elvis' ghost come back and start singing songs again? Why does it have to be the creepy ones that return?"

"Trust me, I'd love to sit around a campfire and sing 'Kumbayah' with Elvis, but right now, we're dealing with old Jackie" Dean replied. "The thing is, we don't know what's caused him to come back all of a sudden"

"Does that really matter though? Can't you just get rid of him?" Callie asked.

Sam smiled sheepishly. "To get rid of a ghost, you have to salt and burn their earthly remains"

"And your problem is..?" Callie asked automatically before instantly seeing what their problem was.

"Nobody knows who exactly Jack the Ripper was" Sam pointed out. "The suspect list is about a mile long with no definitive answer. That's our problem. We were kind of hoping we could maybe trap the ghost but with his performance in that alleyway back there, he's too strong for something like that to work on something like him".

"So basically, you just have to solve one of the greatest 'who-dunnits' ever?" Callie asked.

Dean took a sip of his beer and put it heavily down. "Yeah, we are so screwed"

Callie shrugged. "Well maybe I can help"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "People have been trying to solve this case for over a hundred years and nobody's succeeded"

"That's only because _we_ haven't tried yet" Callie said firmly.

Sam smiled, "I like your optimism"

"Where do you think we should start?" Callie asked. "What do you have already?"

Sam and Dean shared a smile. Callie sensed that they were indulging her, trying to think of a way to let her down gently.

"Well, why not?" Callie asked. "I'm guessing you guys could use the extra help. I just finished my college degree, I'll never be better at research in my life than I am right now. You should use me"

Dean tried to smother back a laugh at Callie's unintentional double entendre and Sam gave him a stern look. Sam looked at her, clearly trying to weigh up all the possible outcomes in his head. "Ok, we'll meet at the main library on Chebworth Street at 9"

Dean turned and looked at Sam, just staring at him. Sam finally gave in and turned and looked at Dean. "What?"

"You're seriously going to involve her in this?" Dean asked.

"Dean, she's already involved. She saw him. He saw her. And in case you hadn't noticed, we could kinda use all the help we can get"

"No, this is _not_ a good idea"

"Well, I'll be there at 9" Callie said, standing up. "And you can't change libraries on me because Chebworth Street is the best place for information"

"Hold the phone, we'll take you home. After you've seen what's out there, I think you might agree that it's not entirely safe for you to be walking around" Dean said, rising as well.

They managed to again avoid the Jack the Ripper tour group people on the way out. There was silence between them as they walked. Callie could tell that Dean was silently seething, he did not want her involved at all. And she could also tell that Sam was silently happy because now he had a little say in calling the shots.

* * *

Maybe it was seeing firsthand what had happened on these streets a hundred years ago, but Callie started to feel a little apprehensive. Especially now she knew that Jack the Ripper wasn't exactly safely ensconced in the grave. However the feeling passed as soon as they reached the boys' car. She tried to hold in her grin but she clearly couldn't help it.

"What? It's a rental" Dean said defensively, noticing the quirk of her mouth.

"I didn't say anything" she replied in an amused tone.

The car was grey- not silver, but concrete grey- and looked as if someone had only been given half the materials to make a car. It was tiny, which was funny in itself but the fact that both boys were well over 6 foot, just made it hilarious.

"Well I happen to like a man who's so comfortable within himself that it doesn't matter what he drives" Callie noted.

Sam caught her eye and tried to hide his own smile.

"Don't you dare join in, Sam" Dean warned

Sam cleared his throat and meekly opened the door for Callie. Once they were inside, it took three turns of the ignition before the car started.

Dean sighed. "I miss my baby"

"It's a very complicated relationship" Sam explained, turning round to face Callie in the back seat.

"I'm in London, she's in the States," Dean continued.

"He's a human, she's a car"

"What can I say? I'm a true romantic" Dean smiled.

* * *

Callie was dropped off and after again threatening the boys not to ditch her at the library, she made her way quietly inside. It was only as she walked inside that Callie realised that she hadn't seen Jim all day. The whole point of coming to London was to spend time with her brother, well, that and see the sights. She hoped he didn't think that she was just mooching off him for free accommodation.

The living room light was on upstairs. Jim was still up. He was watching TV and smiled politely as they entered the room. He was pissed off. Callie knew her brother well and she knew that aloof smile. It was reserved for those he didn't like.

"Are you _terribly_ mad at me?" Callie pouted in an English accent that would have made Dick van Dyke cringe.

This time her brother smiled genuinely and shook his head. Then he seemed to catch himself. "I saw you come home… and who you were with"

"Yeah, Sam and Dean. They were randomly on the same ghost tour as me and so they offered me a ride home"

"Just… be careful, ok?"

Callie could tell from Jim's tone that he was trying to skirt around the issue and she pressed him for more information. "What do you mean?"

"They're good drinking buddies, always have a story and always easy with their money when it comes to their rounds. But that's it, I wouldn't trust either of them as far as I could throw them. All of a sudden, they turn up at a known cop bar and latch onto us and start asking all kinds of questions about the Jack Junior case"

Callie knew her brother. She knew just how tenacious he was. It was what made him a good cop- and annoying as hell as a brother. She tried to lead him off on a different tact. "Well, maybe they're just interested in it. You gotta admit, it's a one of a kind story"

Jim mistook that as her way of encouraging him. "Yeah! That's what I thought too. But then when they kept showing up, that's when I start to get suspicious. I called one of my friends at my stationhouse back home and he ran searches on them. They have records, both of them, but they're empty. It's like somebody just wiped them".

Sam and Dean were on dangerous ground here and they didn't even know it. And it was up to Callie to protect them and get her brother off their backs. Ugh, she was always doing dumb stuff like this, bringing home strays, offering to cover for a friend, helping hot guys exorcise murderous ghosts.

"Maybe they're witness protection," she began. "Or maybe they cut a deal. Don't think the worst of everyone, ok? Don't become a cynical cop already, you only just started out." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, trying to lighten the mood. It worked.

He smiled. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"Yes dad" she promised.

He rolled his eyes at her and stood up. "I'm off to bed"

"I should do the same. Another busy day tomorrow"

"What's on the agenda?"

Callie paused for a split second before replying. "I'm thinking of checking out Buckingham Palace or maybe Harrods. I haven't really decided yet"

"Sounds like fun"

Callie nodded and moved quickly to her bedroom before she had to entangle herself in more lies.

She sat down on the end of the foldout bed. It creaked at the added weight. For the first time that night, she could finally process what had happened. In the alleyway, _what_ had she seen exactly? Her dad had always taught her to trust her gut and her gut was telling her that some serious shit was up. There was no possible explanation. She had seen the figure appear and disappear out of thin air. Her head was telling her that this couldn't be true but she had a horrible sinking feeling that this was entirely 100 the truth. She'd felt the temperature drop, she'd seen the lights go out, one by one, she'd seen _him_. As much as it would make life so much easier if she simply dropped the whole thing, she couldn't. She didn't want to believe the Winchesters' story but it seemed like Jack the Ripper had indeed come back to finish what he'd started all those years ago. And to top it off, it seemed to make perfect screwy sense that a ghost was committing these murders. Who else could kill without being seen, without leaving any trace of themselves? Callie blew out the breath she'd been holding unconsciously. She pushed her hair back out of her face and wasn't completely surprised to find that her hand was shaking slightly. Even though she knew she was safe in the house, her mind kept replaying the shadowy figure. It had turned and looked at her. Looked at her with such blatant desire. And not the desire she'd seen in men's eyes before, this desire was an evil one, a desire to hurt her. She kept the lamp on beside her bed and it was a long time before she dropped off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Callie sat on the steps of the library. It was now half past nine. The boys were nowhere to be seen. At least the sun was shining and it wasn't cold. She _had_ said nine, hadn't she? She folded her arms and settled down for a long wait. She had never in her life been stood up before and she was not about to start now. Her wait was rewarded. Five minutes later, Dean and Sam walked down the street towards her. They were carrying a bag and a tray of coffees.

"Sorry, we're late. Can't do ghost stuff on an empty stomach. Plus if we're to think like cops, we must eat like cops" Dean said, waving the paper bag.

Callie peered inside. There were doughnuts.

"Awesome" she said, pulling one out.

Callie took a coffee from Sam. They all sat on the steps of the library. After a comfortable silence in which they ate, Dean stood up. "I'm gonna go talk to Adam again. I figure he's our best bet for a good place to start"

Callie and Sam trudged inside the library. It wasn't quite where Callie had intended spending her holidays. It reminded her far too much of college and everything she was trying to escape back home.

Sam sighed. "Where should we start?"

The library was enormous. There were several private reading rooms that lead off from the main antechamber.

"As much as it pains me to say this in a library, but I think we should head over to the computers. Most of the stuff we need is already on the net" Callie said.

"No, the best place to start is always the front desk" Sam walked over to the front desk. He smiled at the young woman sitting behind the counter. "Hi Gemma"

She seemed slightly perturbed yet equally flattered that he knew her name. She also seemed to forget that she was wearing a name tag. She brushed her hair behind her ear and looked expectantly up at him.

"I was wondering if you could help me with something?" Sam continued.

Gemma nodded, only too eager to help. Callie tried to fade into the background, not wanting to disrupt Sam's game.

"I was actually hoping to see the Barnabus Room. I was looking forward to it all this time and then yesterday, somebody told me that it was 'Members Only'. Is that true?" Sam asked.

"It is private, yes" Gemma replied. "But…" she trailed off, frowning prettily.

Sam smiled encouragingly. "But..?"

Her face remained uncertain. "I'm not sure. Some of those papers are priceless. If anything were to happen…"

"Come on, Gemma, a favour from one scholar to another"

Gemma suddenly smiled brightly. "Why not? It's not everyday we get someone wanting to visit the Barnabus Room. It needs to be aired anyway".

She got a key from behind the desk and led them into the great antechamber. Callie soon became lost as they followed her along corridors and then finally down three flights of stairs.

"Where are we going? Australia?" Callie whispered to Sam, who laughed and abruptly tried to stop himself. She hoped Sam thought she was being funny, rather than plagiarising from _The League of Extraordinary Gentleman_.

She was glad Sam hadn't laughed too loudly. She didn't want anything to break the spell that Gemma was apparently under. She had no idea why Gemma was totally helping them out. Gemma at last stopped at a door and unlocked it.

"So, you are interested in Jack the Ripper?" she asked politely, making conversation as she stood at the door, not quite willing to leave the pair alone.

Sam nodded before Callie could say anything. "Yeah, I'm actually doing a grad paper on him for my law class. About how we might have caught him in this day and age with all our resources"

Gemma smiled. "Sounds enchanting. Well, I'll leave you to it. There's a computer in there linked to the Internet if you need one. Just don't forget to lock the door behind you when you leave and also come and find me, just so I know that you've gone" She paused, as if fully contemplating her actions. "I could get into a lot of trouble for this"

"But you're doing a great job" Sam grinned, leaning forwards slightly.

Gemma blushed furiously and walked away quickly, closing the door behind her.

"Wow, I am taking you with me on all my law breaking escapades" Callie marvelled.

"That was nothing. That was just me being nice. You should see Dean when he wants something. It's a little scary watching how quickly girls fall over themselves"

Callie made a mental note to never be one of those girls. Then she changed her mind. Maybe it would be ok to be one of those girls, just not on a regular basis.

The Barnabus Room was relatively small, with one large table in the middle and a desk with a computer on it to the side. Surrounding the table were viewing cases, filled with papers.

"Are these..?" Callie trailed off.

"Yep, the original police notes pertaining to the Ripper case" Sam said. He glanced around at all the information in the room. "Ok, so we've only got the day so I guess we'd better get started. If you take the papers to start with, I'll go online. Hopefully something will turn up" Sam made his way over to the computer.

Three hours passed and nothing had really turned up that they didn't already know. From time to time, Gemma would pop back into the room to see how they were getting on. Callie could tell that she was incredibly curious as to what they were doing but too polite and English to actually ask. Gemma seemed reassured that they weren't tearing the place to pieces or setting fire to the papers. The time between visits lengthened. Sam was now helping Callie wade through the avalanche of papers. He sat at the table while Callie was parked on the floor, surrounded by piles of paper.

* * *

Dean rapped on the back door to the Jack the Ripper Museum. It was a good few minutes before said door opened though.

Adam apologised profusely. "My legs aren't quite what they used to be. I was up at the front, helping some customers and couldn't get to the back entrance very quickly at all"

Dean waved away the unnecessary apology. "You said on the phone that you'd be willing to tell me more about Jack"

"Yes, that ghost tour was just a teaser into the fascinating world of the Ripper. I'm surprised that it's you, and not your partner that returned"

"My partner? You mean Sam? No, we're not. No. Not at all" Dean hastily put in.

"I, of course, was referring to your writing partner. I assumed _you_ were with the young lady" Adam seemed amused at Dean's almost over eager protesting.

"Who, Callie?" It seemed easier to nod than to explain.

He followed Adam into the museum.

"What in particular were you interested in learning about?" Adam asked.

"I'm sure you get asked this all the time but who do _you_ think did the murders?"

Adam laughed. "If I had a pound for every time I heard that one" He regarded Dean's serious face. "You really do seem to want to know" He moved towards one of the walls. This particular wall was covered in names. It was the suspect list. "I've been studying these names since I was a boy of ten and my grandfather told me the tale of Jack on my first outing to London" He moved alongside the wall, letting his hand touch the names as he went. He stopped suddenly. "Not that any of this matters. Nobody knows and that's the way it's going to stay. Even if somebody correctly guessed, there's no way we'd know if it was correct"

"But if you had to say, who do you think it was?" Dean pressed the issue. Adam was the best person to ask. He lived and breathed this case.

"Three months ago, I would have told you that it was Jill the Ripper. Certain things do lend to the idea that the murderer was a woman. However, there is a new theory, one I have given much thought to. The idea that Jack was a doctor is hardly a new one, but it's a fairly safe bet. The identity though has always been up for grabs. The new thought is that it was a Sir John Williams, friend of Queen Victoria and obstetrician to her daughter. I spoke to a man researching the case and he stated fairly convincingly that this doctor knew all the victims personally, although I'd have to look at the records myself to absolutely stake my claim on it. Also the way the victims were dismembered shows knowledge of the workings of the female anatomy. Most doctors in that time period wouldn't have known those parts intimately but a doctor who was making a living as an obstetrician would have. For years, people have thought that the Ripper was linked to the royalty and that's why he was never captured, because the royals protected his identity"

"Yeah, wasn't it supposed to have been the Prince that was Jack the Ripper at one point?" Dean interrupted.

"It was never a very feasible option but that's correct. However, Williams _was_ connected with the royalty, he was a Baronet even. He would have been protected. The fact that he was surgeon to Victoria's daughter cements that fact. Can you imagine the scandal that would have occurred if the fact that the Princess's doctor was the Ripper was ever made public?"

"So what makes you not so sure that Williams was Jack?" Dean asked. The whole thing was so frustrating. They had to stop this ghost before another attack but it was next to impossible unless they knew the identity.

"Now, see, this is my biggest problem with the Williams as Jack scenario. Jack worked the Whitechapel area. In those days, it was a small community, not tight knit, but people knew each other. Most people who live in a neighbourhood can pick out an impostor. Even if you look the part and act the part, there's something that gives you away. It's a fact that's been well documented. For example, when people caught undercover agents in the second world war on both sides, they couldn't even verbalise how they knew it was a spy, they just _knew_. How could a Baronet move through the slums of London and not be noticed? Plus, people wanted the killer to be caught. They would have informed the police of someone new in the area"

"But you said he knew the victims. Maybe because he knew them, he visited them in the area and so people got used to his presence and didn't think to report it?"

"Very nice detective work" Adam said admiringly. He then shrugged. "We shall never know. However, the one thing that keeps me awake at night more than Jack's identity is _why_ he stopped. People who do the unspeakable things that Jack did, they're compelled to do what they do. Jack could never simply stop"

"You think he died? That maybe I should look into death records around the time the murders stopped?"

"Maybe he had to stop…" Adam mused aloud.

"You mean, like someone controlling him?" Dean sensed that Adam was onto a breakthrough.

"Possibly…" Dean could tell from Adam's tone of voice that he wasn't even really entertaining his suggestion. "Or something happened to make him appear as if he had stopped. Maybe he was forced to change his _modus operandi_" He'd started talking quickly and then abruptly stopped and began talking slower, clearly thinking aloud. "The last victim, Mary Kelly, had defensive wounds on her. She put up a good fight. But that made him angry and he took it out on her, ripping her body to shreds. And there was a lot of blood. Maybe his was mixed in there as well. Perhaps we should look at hospital records to check if Williams had to make a visit to a hospital"

"But he was a doctor himself and connected to the royal family. He wouldn't have to visit a hospital" Dean protested. They seemed to be going round in circles. And hitting dead ends. A lot of them.

"It's a long shot, but I'd look into it. No harm in looking" He looked at Dean's unconvinced face. "It's not as if you can talk to anyone who was there. The tangible records are the best evidence you're going to get. Use them"

"It's better than anything we could have come up with so thank you" he said sincerely.

"May I show you my newest acquisition?" Adam's face sparkled. He had no idea how relevant his information was to Dean and what they were trying to stop. Adam was too interested in his museum and the past.

Dean nodded, wanting to show his gratitude to the old man. He followed Adam to one of the stands. It was the knife that he'd seen on his last visit.

"I received this from the man who was writing the book on the Ripper, the one who believed it was Williams. He was actually a distant relative of Williams and owned a surgical kit belonging to the man himself. Considering most of the wounds that killed the victims were made with surgical precision, it's not too much of a stretch to believe that this may be the actual murder weapon. I've cheekily labelled it as such. It's a true coup for the museum to own such a piece of memorabilia"

Dean eyed the scalpel. It was tiny. It hardly looked like the sort of thing that could butcher people to death. But it seemed to make Adam happy. Adam moved over to another stand. He smiled boyishly at Dean. "Now, this, this is what I wanted to show you. It arrived yesterday. I paid far too much for it but I simply couldn't resist" He held out the piece to Dean who took it in his hands. "Mary Kelly's hairbrush, the last victim. They say everything in her room was covered in blood. Imagine…" he trailed off, clearly imagining the scene in his mind.

Dean gingerly put the brush back on the stand and, despite himself, wiped his hands. He hoped that thing had had a serious meeting with some bleach.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam's phone rang and he answered it. "Dean?" He listened intently and then hung up. "Dean's heading over this way. Apparently we're looking at a doctor named John Williams."

Callie sighed and shut the book she was reading with a snap. "Ok, not that guy then" and picked up another one. She halted suddenly in mid sentence. "Wait, that name's familiar... he's in the 'maybe' pile. I decided I liked him because he was a doctor and was connected to the royal family and they'd probably protect him".

The search for John Williams' papers took a while. To stop boredom from creeping in, both Sam and Callie had regularly changed seating positions which meant that little mountains of paper had appeared all over the room. And they'd read so many files that all the names had sort of morphed together. By the time Callie had found the folder containing Williams' papers, Dean had joined them.

"Ha! John Williams" Callie said, reading the name triumphantly off the folder.

Dean suddenly clicked his fingers. "I knew I knew that name! He's the guy that composed the _Star Wars _music"

"Yes, Dean. The guy who composed the _Star Wars _music is Jack the Ripper. Well done, you solved the case" Sam replied.

Callie ignored the not too subtle elbowing going on between the brothers over the _Star Wars _comment.

Dean filled the others in on Adam's reasons for suspecting Williams and in particular, making reference to the point that maybe Williams _had_ to change his method of killing and that's why he was never caught.

"So we should check hospital records around the time of the last attack?" Sam asked, already taking a seat at the computer.

"Ninth November" Dean read from a paper.

Callie watched over Sam's shoulder as he slowly but surely found his way to hospital records in 1888. She hated it when people did that to her, however he didn't seem to notice. He printed out pages and pages for them to look over of the general admissions for the hospitals in the London area. They pored over the pages, scanning for the name "Williams". And Williams was such a fricking common name! Callie didn't hold out much hope. Williams was a doctor himself and would surely have been able to patch himself up. She mentioned as much to Sam, who nodded.

"Williams' folder even includes his diary, I guess it was used as some kind of alibi for the nights of the murders. There was nothing untoward in any of them…" Callie trailed off and then picked up the folder, shaking it so that the diary fell out.

The boys watched as Callie flicked through the pages, reading a sentence here and there, and then going backwards or forwards accordingly. She then pointed out a sentence to them. It was for the 10th November and had the words "Jonathan Wellenby" and a notation scratched beside it.

"That means he treated that person" Callie said, interpreting it for them.

"And so you think it's that guy. Simply because he was treated by a doctor on the day after?" Dean asked. They could all tell from his voice that he was more than a tad sceptical.

"We could at least look into it" Callie replied, a little miffed. Although now that her excitement was ebbing away, she was starting to see that Dean may have a point.

Sam was still at his post at the computer so he pulled up a search engine and typed in the name "Jonathan Wellenby" and "1888". 579 hits came back. Sam flicked through the first couple and sighed. "This is hopeless"

"Ooh, what's that?" Callie said, pointing at a link a few lines down.

It was for a Jonathan Wellenby, lecturing at St. Anne's during the summer term of 1893, which was the main teaching hospital in Victorian London. Sam skim read the piece, which was a transcript of an article written for those on the board of St. Anne's. "'He was a doctor, who began his distinguished career as an assistant to another renowned doctor, Sir John Williams'…" he trailed off, still reading.

Callie picked up a few lines later, "'Resplendent in his top hat and cane, one would never know that he lost the use of his left leg in a tragic accident, several years ago. To this day, the doctor refuses to talk about it'"

"Yeah, I wonder why" Dean muttered. "Plus, if he's only on one good leg, there's no way the son of a bitch'd be able to escape quickly, nor overpower the women in the first place"

"'The doctor often uses personal stories of his childhood growing up as a commoner in the Whitechapel area, to highlight the need for greater care of the poor'. You said that Adam had said that an outsider would have been noticed. That's why he was never noticed- he came from that community, people didn't look twice at him," Callie said. She could feel herself starting to believe that this might be their guy.

Sam exited out of the article and found another one, referring to the same Jonathan Wellenby. This time his name was only mentioned in passing, as the general practioner concerning the Balham area in London.

"Check out the records for the Balham area at that time" Dean instructed.

"Already on it" Sam replied, his fingers flying over the keyboard, searching out the records.

He finally came across them. It was a list of all the people who had visited the good doctor. There was not much to the list, just name and age. In some cases, there was an extra column in which the word 'Dcd' had been added to show that the person was deceased.

"Clara Hooper, 84, Dcd… Samuel Smith, 62, Dcd" Sam read off the list.

"Wait, Helen Brown, 24, Dcd… and further down, Dora Hobbs, 27, Dcd. It's a kind of pattern, every couple of months, a young girl or two ends up dead. Coincidence?" Callie asked.

"I, for one, don't believe in coincidences. Sam, print off a list of the dead girls. I happened to find out that there's a Graves Directory Office in the downtown area. Hell, I love England, there's such a healthy respect for the dead here. I'm gonna go see if any of those graves are undisturbed" Dean said.

"Whoa, wait, what are _we_ supposed to do then?" Sam asked. "How come you get to do everything and we just have to stay here?"

"You two can tidy this place up" Dean answered.

Sam and Callie shared a look.

"Have fun" Callie grumbled at Dean, turning her back on him as she bent to pick up one of the piles of paper.

"I'm checking off a list of dead people against their graves. Not exactly fun in my book. I thought you said you were from New York. I didn't think that that was the number one activity for young people in that state. In fact, I heard--"

Sam cut his brother off in full flight. "Dean. Just go" He gave Callie a small smile after Dean had left. "I guess it's just us then"

Callie returned his smile, but only as a common courtesy. She was pissed at being made to stay behind. It was clear that Sam had been given the task of babysitting her.

"Are you mad you got ditched?" Sam asked.

Callie finally smiled properly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah, the way you're throwing those folders around is kinda a dead giveaway"

"Sorry". She stopped and leaned back in her chair, stretching.

Sam came and sat beside her but as he did, his arm caught the pile sitting closest to Callie, sending them all crashing into her lap. Sam swore softly and hurriedly began picking up the papers before he realised where his hands were. He withdrew them quickly. "Sorry, sorry"

Callie laughed. "It's ok. Trust me, that's the only action I've received all vacation" She realised that it sounded like she was flirting and then she realised that she kind of was.

"Wow, ok, this really isn't working out. Do you want to grab a bite to eat instead?"

Callie surveyed the room. The papers were now stacked neatly on the desk. They really should have gone back in their cases but Callie decided that Sam could probably talk his way out of it if Gemma brought it up.

They waved at Gemma at the front desk and handed her the key. Gemma tried to make bumbling conversation with Sam. Sam listened intently, smiling and nodding in all the right places, but his arm crept slowly around Callie's shoulders. Once it was there, Gemma noticed and then realised that Sam was clearly with someone else, she toned down her conversation and let them go on their way.

When they were outside the library, Sam dropped his arm. "Sorry, it was the quickest way to get rid of her"

"No, that's ok. It was nice" She then pressed her lips together tightly. She had to stop all these words coming out of her mouth. She noticed Sam smiling to himself at her sudden silence.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hmm… battered fish and chips or battered sausage and chips? The British really do love their batter" Sam noted.

Callie stood in the line beside him, waiting for their turn to order. "And people say Americans are a bunch of fatties"

They were in a small diner. After leaving the library, they'd ended up just walking, both thinking that the other knew where they were going. By the time they'd realised their mistake, they were miles from anywhere they recognised but right outside this diner. They saw it as a sign. Besides, it had been nice to get out for a bit after spending the whole day cooped up in a small room. And they'd been so busy talking and enjoying each other's company that they hadn't really minded the long walk.

They'd just sat down at their table when Dean pulled up a chair.

"Food? Why didn't you call me? I hate to miss meals"

Callie was surprised, to say the least, at Dean's sudden appearance. "Where did you come from?"

"Please, like you two were hard to find."

He started picking chips from Callie's plate. She glared at him but he smiled and took another handful, shoving them in his mouth. There was something so 'little boy innocent' about the picture that she couldn't get mad and pushed the plate of chips closer to him. He took the hint and grabbed a bottle of ketchup and drowned the chips in ketchup. Sam and Callie just watched him eat, a look of slight disgust mixed with a dash of awe on their faces.

"Well..?" Sam asked after they'd spent a good five minutes simply watching him eat.

Dean looked up from his meal, confused.

"You were checking out the grave list?" Sam prompted.

"Oh, yeah. Right. So, most of the graves have been built over but I managed to find one or two that had been untouched. There's a Lucy Bellows buried not too far from here actually. I thought we could head over after dinner"

"And do what?" Callie asked. She was starting to not get a good feeling about this.

"Nothing" Sam looked pointedly at Dean, willing him to shut up.

Dean looked seriously at Callie and repeated "Nothing"

"You going to perform a séance?" Callie asked, genuinely interested.

Both boys looked at each other and started laughing.

"Yeah, if we want to get our asses kicked" Dean replied, once he'd calmed down from laughing. "The only thing you get from a séance is a pissed off spirit and that's not what I want to be dealing with right now"

"So what are you going to do then?" Callie wasn't used to people laughing at her suggestions.

Dean received a warning look from Sam but he chose to ignore it. "We're going to dig her up. See if her remains can tell us anything"

"But won't she be… icky?" Callie asked for use of a better word.

"Probably. But at least, after a hundred years, she won't be stink. That's always the worst part" Dean added.

"But if you get caught… Grave desecration is a crime" Callie said.

Dean nodded. "Well then, we'll just have to make sure we don't get caught" He paused. "You coming?"

"Dean, I don't know…" Sam intervened.

Callie really didn't want to come along and dig up some gross dead body but now that there was some resistance to her going, there was no way she wasn't going. "I'm going" she said firmly.

"She's going" Dean smiled triumphantly to Sam.

Sam clenched his jaw and did the broody thing that he does so well.

"Does it always take this long?" Callie asked. She was sitting cross-legged by the side of Lucy Bellows' grave, watching the boys dig.

Dean wiped away sweat and leaned on his shovel. "Why? You wanna help?"

Callie smiled sweetly and shook her head. They were far enough down that she could swing her legs into the open grave and so she moved forward, perching on the edge of the grave with her legs dangling in.

"Make sure you don't get a faceful of dirt" Sam warned.

Just then, Dean hit wood. He tapped his shovel on the mound just to make sure. They'd hit the coffin. The boys wiped the remaining dirt off the coffin. The coffin creaked underneath their combined weight. The wood wasn't made to last this long in the damp ground but at least it was easy enough to break the lid off. The corpse was more or less a skeleton with surprisingly enough a full head of long brown hair. However, that wasn't the biggest surprise. All on her bones were these white marks, whiter than the original bones. Dean offered a hand to help Callie down into the grave to get a closer look.

"Those are knife marks" Callie breathed, crouching down to see it clearer.

"One deep one across her neck to shut her up. Then see, all along the spine, where her abdomen was" Sam pointed out all the deep gashes.

Dean whistled. "Johnny really went to town"

"And it says she died of natural causes?" Callie asked Dean.

Dean nodded. "I checked her death certificate, signed by Jonathan Wellenby himself"

"Do you think she really died of natural causes though?" Callie mused. "Maybe he lured her somewhere and then managed to get her tied down or drugged and then he killed her. It would be easy enough if you were her doctor to say that she'd died of natural causes and that you'd already disposed of the body"

"Or perhaps she really did die of natural causes or some unrelated illness and once she was dead, he had all the time in the world to play with her body" Sam finished.

"Either way it's sick and I'm pretty sure we've found our boy" Dean said.

"But why is he back?" Callie wanted to know.

"Don't know. Don't care. All I know is that we've got him and we can salt and burn his creepy ass remains. And then he's gone for good." Dean replied.

Sam helped her out of the grave. He still had a hold of her hand as they walked back to the car. He had large hands. Callie wondered if what they said about men with large hands was true.

For a change, it was the boys waiting for her. They'd arranged to meet at Liverpool Street Station. The station was bustling with last minute commuters and tourists going on daytrips. They sat in McDonalds and went over their plan for the day.

"Last night, we found out where Wellenby's buried" Dean said. "It's sort of down the coast in Kent. According to the guide book, it's 'delightfully picturesque'".

"If we catch a train, it should only take a couple of hours to get there. It might take a bit longer to find the actual gravesite but that's ok. We have to wait for nightfall before we can act anyway" Sam added.

"Why? Does this sort of stuff only work at night?" Callie asked.

Dean looked at her oddly. "Uh, no, we do it at night because if we did it in the daytime, we'd get caught by the cops"

"Oh" Callie felt a bit stupid. She was still trying to wrap her head around this hunter thing but really it seemed just as straightforward as her own world.

Dean patted her hand. "It's ok"

She glared at him and he laughed and stood up. "Come on, we should get going, our train's leaving soon anyway"

The train ride passed quickly. The train was deserted and so the boys passed the time by telling Callie anecdotes about their special brand of hunting. Some were funny, some were terrifying.

"So how'd you two get into this? Family trade?" Callie asked.

Sam smiled. "Sort of. It's a long story"

Callie spread her hands as if to say, _well we've got the time _but Sam shook his head slightly and Dean launched into a telling of a daring escapade in which he was the star.

Sam snorted in disbelief. "Dean, it was hardly like that"

"Oh yeah?" Dean challenged.

Sam sighed and began re-telling the story, this time _he_ was the hero.

"Hmm, which story to believe…" Callie giggled, more at the disbelieving expression on Dean's face as he listened to Sam's version of the story than the story itself.

The train pulled slowly into the station. "Well, this is us" Sam said.

Callie was still laughing as she got off the train. The station was tiny and from what they could see of the town, it really was 'delightfully picturesque'.

"Is that what I think it is?" Callie asked, pointing towards a hill in the distance.

On the top of the hill, you could just make out the crosses that marked graves.

"Nice. Twenty points" Dean said admiringly and began walking in that direction.

"Wait, how do we know that _that's_ the gravesite?" Callie asked.

"It's as good a place as any to begin" Dean replied.

Forty minutes later, they finally arrived at the cemetery. And not a moment too soon because the whole way there, Dean and Callie had complained about the walking. Sam had threatened to kill them both several times. At least he'd have had the perfect place to dump the bodies.

"Let's split up, we'll cover more ground that way" Sam

"More walking?" Callie whispered to Dean.

He patted her sympathetically on the back. "I know, I know"

Callie took a row of graves and began meandering along, looking at the names on the gravestones. She kept getting sidetracked by the loving words on the gravestones or the young ages of some of the buried. She heard a shout and turned to where it had come from. Sam was beckoning her over.

Dean stared at the headstone and frowned. "Well that didn't take long at all"

Sam looked at a piece of paper he had unfolded from his back pocket. "Correct dates and if we needed anything more, the name is prefixed by 'Doctor'. I say this is our guy"

"So now what do we do? Sit around and wait for nightfall" Callie asked.

"Got it in one" Dean replied. "And I have to say, a woman is a welcome addition to a stakeout"

Callie rolled her eyes, turned and began walking away from the cemetery. Sam gave his brother a look and ran to catch up with Callie. Dean looked bewildered and slowly followed them out of the cemetery.

Sam caught up to her. "I apologise for my brother. I really do"

Callie looked surprised and then realised what he was apologising for. "Oh, no, I wasn't storming off or anything. I was heading back to the town to get food. We passed a café on the way here. You can't go on a stakeout on an empty stomach. That's just criminal" Callie explained. "Ooh and then when the café closes, we could maybe catch a late night movie. That should bring us out around 12. I mean, it's not like Wellenby's going anywhere" Callie added.

Sam smiled. "I like the way you think. We just have to make a quick stop before that"

She followed him into the main street of the town and then into a hardware store. She watched Sam buy matches, shovels and lighter fuel, all with a flawless English accent, in case someone came around asking questions later, Sam explained, he didn't want anything to stick in someone's mind, like an American accent.

They stowed the supplies behind some shrubbery on the path that was on the way to the cemetery. Dean caught up to them.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.

Callie linked arms with him and laughed. "If you have to ask, then you _know_ you said something wrong"

"Wait, I'm confused" he said.

"We're going to get something to eat" she explained.

"I like that plan. I like it a lot" Dean agreed.

They passed a few hours in the café. They would probably have drawn attention to themselves by hanging out in a small diner for too long but the boys spun a convincing story to the waitress and were so charming that she let them be for most of the evening. There was some argument over what to see at the movies so Callie and Sam went and saw one movie while Dean saw another. Normally Callie didn't mind a bit of gore but in light of what she was about to do, she didn't need any extra reminders. She managed to sweet talk Sam into seeing the comedy with them but Dean was determined not to see a chick flick.


	7. Chapter 7

Afterwards when they met up again, it had just gone twelve. Callie was all set to head straight over to the cemetery but both Sam and Dean disagreed.

"It's still too early. Someone could see us. We should wait til at least three" Sam said.

"In the morning?" Callie groaned.

"No, the afternoon" Dean retorted.

"Come on, it's a small town, everyone will be safely tucked up in their beds, no one will see us" Callie pleaded.

Sam sighed. "Trust me, it's much worse getting caught than waiting around for a few more hours"

Callie pulled a face of annoyance which caused Dean to laugh. He shrugged and looked over at Sam. "At least it's dark. We've got that going for us"

It took them a while anyway to walk back to where they'd dumped their supplies and by the time they'd made it to the cemetery it was around two.

"Close enough" Dean said and began walking towards Wellenby's grave.

She sat and watched the boys dig up the grave. They were so intent on their task that they didn't even bother to ask her if she wanted to give them a hand. Just as well, because there was no way that Callie would ever dig someone up. Her extracurricular activities did not include grave digging and she did not intend to add it on. It took them a while but at last the sound of the shovel thunking onto wood instead of dirt was heard. She scrambled up from her sitting position and lowered herself into the open grave to help clear away the dirt. The wooden top to the coffin gave way easily. The five buttons that ran down Wellenby's chest was all that remained of his shirt and his feet were still housed in shoes. But the rest of him looked like one puff would blow the remnants of his body away. He was a dry skeleton almost returned to the dust from whence he came.

"Good thing we arrived when we did. There's not much of him left to burn" Dean commented, as he pulled himself out of the grave and then turned to help Callie out.

She helped soak the body in petrol and Dean lit the match and threw it on the body. It went up in a burst of flames. They stood silently and watched the body burn, all were consumed in their own thoughts.

Callie gasped suddenly breaking the silence. "Were we supposed to say anything?"

"You mean, like a spell?" Sam tried to remain serious, knowing that the girl didn't know anything about the occult, but it was hard to stop the smile creeping onto his face.

She looked at Sam's face. "Ok. Obviously not"

Dean laughed quietly to himself but not quietly enough because Callie hit him on the arm. Hard. He sent her a hurt look.

Callie shook her head. "That's not even going to work a little with me"

* * *

After arriving back to London, just before lunch, the group parted company after a job well done. When Callie reached Jim's place, she went straight to sleep. It had been almost 36 hours since she'd last had a proper sleep. She woke up, completely disorientated at five the next morning. She groaned and stretched. There was no way she could get back to sleep, it was like jetlag all over again. Her body clock was so screwed.

She padded quietly into the kitchen and made herself a sandwich and a coffee. The kettle switched off with a loud click that made her jump. Although not half as much as she jumped when Jim walked through the door of the apartment. She'd thought that he was asleep in the next room. She was surprised to see him in his uniform, she'd known that yesterday had been his day off. He looked exhausted and completely drained.

"What happened?" Callie asked worriedly.

He shook his head and began walking towards his bedroom.

"No, wait. Talk to me. Tell me what's happened" she asked again.

"I just came back from work, I got called in. Jack Junior struck again" Jim replied quietly. She could tell that his mind was still at the crime scene.

"But that's impossible!" Callie replied, louder than she'd intended. Her and Dean and Sam had put the Ripper to rest. He couldn't be out there still killing people, not after what they'd done to his remains.

He joined her on the sofa. "Trust me, it's possible. I saw it for myself, but it's ok, you're leaving in a few days. As long as you stay out of the Whitechapel area, you should be safe". He mistook Callie's outburst as concern for Jack Junior being out and about again. "But I shouldn't be talking about this with you"

"Come on, I'm basically a cop by association anyway" Callie pleaded.

There was a trace of a smile on Jim's face. "How come I always give in to you?"

"Coz I'm awesome" Callie replied matter of factly.

"We got the call around three this morning" Jim began.

Callie frowned. There was no mistaking the time. Jack should have been well and truly dead, well, re-dead.

"He'd gotten into somebody's house this time. It wasn't just a random killing on the streets. The neighbours called us about a domestic disturbance. We have no idea how he got in. We set off the security alarm when we broke in. There's no sign of forced entry" He reached up and found Callie's hand still on his arm. "Can you get me a tea?"

Callie jumped up, eager for something to do. This was horrible, her brain was whirling. This couldn't be happening, they'd put an end to Jack. It couldn't possibly be anybody else, Jack the Ripper _was_ Jonathan Wellenby. Unless there were two Rippers, and they'd only vanquished one ghost. Or maybe… conspiracy theories rolled around in her head. Why hadn't the killings stopped?

She brought Jim's tea over to him. He didn't even take a sip, instead placing it directly onto the coffee table in front of him. She realised that he'd been distracting her with the task of making tea for him so that he could get his mind in order.

"It was worse than before. It was ten times worse. This girl had been completely mutilated, it was a frenzied attack. The only thing to suggest that the killer had any control over himself was the way he got in and out without leaving a single trace. And the guy would have been covered in blood. We got there ten minutes after the neighbours called about the disturbance and there was nothing there. You'd never even have known that she'd been a person. There were pieces everywhere. All covered in blood…" he trailed off.

Callie and her brother sat on that sofa for over an hour. Both were silent, both lost in their thoughts.

Jim finally broke the silence "I should try and get some sleep. I still have to report for duty at eight tomorrow morning". He went into his room. He still hadn't touched the tea.

* * *

It was later that morning. Callie hadn't gone back to bed but had instead hit the tourist hotspots before the majority of tourists turned up. She sat opposite Buckingham Palace. Her mind wasn't on the queen or the splendour of the palace in front of her, instead she wondered whether Dean and Sam knew about the murder earlier this morning. She had no way of getting in touch with them. It was so frustrating. She thought they'd solved this thing, wrapped it up neatly with a nice ribbon. But there was no point moping about, she only had a few days left before she returned to New York. And the killings would keep piling up, it's not like the police could catch the killer or anything.

She began power walking, with her head down and her hands in her pocket. She was on a mission. She glanced up at a street sign and turned left. Luckily she'd always been good with directions, although she did have several large blemishes on that track record. One of which was when she got lost on the way home from senior prom, but that was neither here nor there. She picked up her pace a bit and thought over the plan that was formulating in her mind.

The Ten Bells pub in the heart of Whitechapel was exactly where she remembered it to be. She was psyched at her excellent memory. She decided to have a quick drink to calm her nerves. There must be something that they'd overlooked, a tiny detail. There _had _to be. As she walked into the pub, somebody was walking out and they held the door open for her. She smiled politely at the person and then with a gasp of recognition, she hugged him tightly. "Sam!"

She then noticed Dean standing next to Sam and quickly hugged him as well. Dean smirked, knowing precisely that he'd only gotten a hug by default.

"You leaving?" she asked. She tried not to sound too nosey.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked, ignoring her question.

She suddenly realised how stupid she must seem to them. The little girl who wanted to play with the big boys.

"Nancy Drew-ing is going to get you killed. This isn't some sort of game" Sam continued.

"I know" Callie muttered.

"This isn't just some guy you can call the cops on. This is a supernatural being, you can't hurt it with mortal weapons."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious" Dean quipped. "Besides, she's safer now that she's caught up with us. It's not like she was going to go after it alone. Were you?" he asked warningly.

Callie shook her head and scrunched up her face. "Not exactly. I was trying to find you guys and I figured if I lured Jack out, then I'd find you two as well"

"This is why I don't get women. Their logic is so messed up" Dean announced to the street.

Callie smiled and happily followed Sam who reluctantly gestured for her to join them.


	8. Chapter 8

She was incredibly glad she'd managed to find the boys. Now that it was much later and night had fallen on the back alleys of Whitechapel, the idea that she could possibly be killed was starting to dawn on her. She stuck so close to Dean that she'd trodden three times on the backs of his shoes, causing him each time to turn around and glare at her.

The plan was to lure Jack out by traipsing around the streets that he prowled. Callie wasn't too sure about this plan, mainly because she was the bait. Jack apparently didn't care whether his victims were accompanied or not. The boys had assured her that they wouldn't let her be taken and that they had the weapons to bring him down. So it wasn't exactly the smartest plan in the world, but it was the only plan they had so they would just have to suck it up and use it.

She tried to calm her nerves by breathing deeply, in and out, in and out. It had no effect on her whatsoever, except to remind her how fragile her own body was. How any second her life could be ripped from her body. Sam's presence behind her did nothing to soothe her nerves. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel it calling to Jack, like a beacon. This was a disaster, she was completely out of her depth here. There was absolutely nothing that one could do to ward off a ghost. Vampires, there's garlic (although she'd probably have to check up on that one, that is if vampires existed at all); rapists, there's a kick to the balls; ghosts- there's nothing_. _The thought consumed her and so she was too preoccupied to scream when something pulled her from the shadows and into the middle of the street. She made her body go limp, a self defence technique to make herself heavier and therefore harder to drag, but she continued to be dragged effortlessly… by nothing. She tried to struggle with her attacker but it was useless, she couldn't see anything _to_ fight with. The street was silent except for the sound of Callie gasping as if she was being choked. Both guys quickly followed her out into the street but a force shoved them back a good five metres, throwing them off their feet. Simultaneously she was released from the chokehold on her throat but her arm was grabbed and forced behind her back. She struggled again but her arm was viciously forced further up. She cried out in pain.

Callie could feel a panting wheeze on the back of her neck. Instead of the normal warm breath of a person, this was icy and rancid. She could feel the tip of cold steel running up along her abdomen underneath her t-shirt, sketching gently and intimately. She could literally taste the fear in her mouth. Dean walked straight up behind Callie and shot to the side. A figure appeared out of the cloud of gun smoke. It let go of Callie with a shove and began walking backwards. She fell to the floor.

"Uh-uh, we're coming for you, you ugly ass son of a bitch" Dean said, following the retreating figure.

As the seconds ticked by, Callie watched as the figure grew clearer and clearer in the smoke caused by the gun. It wore a long dark coat and had a pronounced limp. The figure opened his mouth and screamed at the group, his mouth opening wider than humanly possible.

"Dude, that is so not cool" Dean scoffed. "Might work on some but not us, we grew up on _Star Wars_. We got CGI, green screens... you think that detaching your jaw is gonna scare us?" The way Dean was standing and talking made it seem like he was just chatting with an acquaintance but his gun remained trained on the figure, belying his real emotions.

The figure made a sudden movement towards Dean, moving wicked fast and was almost upon Dean when another shotgun blast him. This time the shot came from Sam, who was crouched by Callie. The figure had been distracted by Dean's monologue and so he'd forgotten to also watch Sam, falling into the boys' trap. He snarled in frustration at the younger brother who was standing in between him and his quarry. Callie caught a glimpse of the killer's eyes again. Then Jack winked at her and disappeared. The boys scanned the area with their eyes and guns but the figure had seemingly vanished for the time being at least.

"You ok?" Sam quietly asked Callie.

She nodded as he helped her up. The part that had scared her the most hadn't been the physical attack, it had been Jack's parting shot, the wink. It was like he wanted her to know that he'd be coming back for her. She rubbed gingerly at her throat, where already angry red marks were starting to form.

"Can I..?" he asked, moving his hands to her throat. She nodded weakly. He pulled her closer to the streetlight and examined her bruises, his fingers gently tracing the marks on her neck. Callie kept her eyes cast downwards under his scrutiny.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked again.

She nodded again and brusquely moved aside from him. Dean gave her a cursory once over to check that she was ok. It didn't really differ from his seductive once over. "You good?".

"Not bad" she replied.

Callie then took off her jacket to examine where the figure had grabbed her. A single hand print stood out against the paleness of her arm in the moonlight. "Damn, you could lift prints off of that" she muttered to herself. Her skin was still crawling from where what had felt like a knife had made a cruel teasing path up and down her abdomen. She gave a violent shiver and jumped up and down to try and rid the feeling from her.

"Hey, you're bleeding" Sam said, the concern in his voice apparent. He was looking at her stomach.

She glanced down, Sam was right. Blood. The adrenaline began to wear off and she realised that a dull ache was spreading along her front.

Sam started to lift her top and she jumped back, flapping his hands away.

"Can you _not_?!" Callie exclaimed.

"No, I was just…. I didn't mean to…" Sam started to say and then trailed off. Nothing he could say could really make it any better

Dean snickered.

Callie glowered at both brothers and turned her back to them so that she could inspect the wounds with a little privacy.

"Dude, not exactly the right time to make a move on the girl" Dean said under his breath to Sam.

His brother ignored him and shoved his hands in his pocket. Dean continued to keep a lookout for Jack.

The scratches were merely that- scratches. Jack clearly liked to toy with his victims before getting down to the serious stuff and so the knife marks were superficial. That didn't mean that they didn't hurt though, nor that they weren't bleeding badly. They had soaked through her thin shirt and of course, she was wearing white.

She turned back to Sam and Dean. "It's ok. It's just bleeding a lot. I'll be fine"

Sam walked towards her, unbuttoning his outer layer of clothing, a plaid shirt, and pulled it off, handing it to her. "Put it on"

She wordlessly took it from him. "Don't look" she threatened.

Both brothers turned their backs, as she changed into Sam's shirt. Sam caught Dean trying to casually turn around. He kicked him sharply, looking at him with warning in his eyes.

"Done" she announced. She was holding the bloody shirt in her hands. "I think I'm still bleeding though"

Sam moved towards her again. He took her top from her hands and lifted his shirt. She was about to protest when she felt his hands on her stomach. Butterflies exploded in the base of her stomach and suddenly all the pain went away. All she could feel were his hands on her, carefully examining the knife marks. She looked into his face, but he was intent on the next task in hand, tying her old shirt around her body to stem the blood flow. She could feel his breath, soft on the base of her throat, as he bent down. He smoothed his shirt over the bulk of her own shirt, when he'd finished.

She took a step back, analysing her image in a storefront window. "I look like a pregnant hillbilly" Callie mumbled.

Dean laughed and placed his arm comfortingly tightly around her shoulders. Dean's way with her was reassuring and almost brotherly. She was grateful for the contact. She was a little shaky, both from blood loss and the shock of being attacked. Not to mention the effect that Sam had just had on her.

"Come on, I know a place nearby where we can get some food. I'm always hungry after a little ghost busting" Dean said.

* * *

The group sat in a small all night café, drinking cheap hot chocolate, over sugared to the max.

"But let me get this straight? Didn't we bust Wellenby already?" Callie asked. She had her arms folded on the table and had her head rested on them, her face turned so she could still see the boys.

"It's him, it's got to be him, there's no other possibility" Sam said, thinking aloud.

"Except for the possibility that it's not Wellenby?" Callie countered.

Dean fiddled with the empty packets of sugar. "There's got to be something we're missing".

Sam hit the table with his hand and then pointed at Dean. "Remember that case with the little ghost girl in the painting, the one that murdered all those people? Part of her was linked to her doll. Maybe Wellenby's like that, maybe he's linked to something?"

"Something that recently came to light, maybe. That would explain why he's back all of a sudden" Dean explained to Callie.

It took Sam and Dean a beat to realise what it was. They both looked at each other. "The knife"

"The knife?" Callie asked. She rolled up the sleeves on Sam's shirt, trying to make it fit a bit better.

"When I went to see Adam when you guys were at the library, he showed me this knife that he'd gotten recently. He'd gotten a knife from a Jack the Ripper enthusiast, saying that it apparently came from John Williams' surgery, the guy who he thought was the Ripper. It was a surgical knife, looked like a scalpel. Maybe with this knife suddenly being in the limelight viewed by everyone, with people really believing that this was the murder weapon, not knowing that it actually _was_ the murder weapon… maybe that's what set this whole thing off" Dean explained.

Sam shook his head. "It's not right. The knife belongs to Williams, not Wellenby"

"Maybe Wellenby borrowed the surgeon's tools while he was on his killing spree in London, using it on his victims when he was the Ripper. That article we read said that he grew up as a poor kid. Maybe he didn't have the money to buy his weapons, so he used Williams' surgical kit. Besides, the knife belonged to the surgery, not necessarily Williams" Dean said.

"That sounds…" Sam groped for the right word.

"Lame?" Callie proffered.

"I was going to go with 'circumstantial at best' but 'lame' is good" Sam agreed.

Dean shrugged. "Well fine. Rude but fine. You come up with something then"

Callie thought a little, recalling the attack. "I didn't get look at the knife Wellenby tried to use on me, but I guess it could have been that one. Wellenby as the Ripper maybe just used whatever he could get his hands on at the time".


	9. Chapter 9

Cut to Callie huddled in an alleyway at a ridiculous hour of night or early morning. Whenever Callie in her later years would think of London, she would think not of Big Ben or red double decker buses, she would think of alleyways.

"Is this going to take long?" Callie nervously kept a lookout for Wellenby/Jack/whatever his name was.

"Not at all" Dean replied. He pulled a key out of his pocket and opened the door. "Ladies first" he said with a sweep of his hand.

Being back inside the "Jack the Ripper Ghost Tour & Museum" was not exactly where Callie wanted to be right now. She wanted to be safely tucked up in bed. She wished she'd never set eyes on the Winchester brothers, especially after nearly being added to the list of the Ripper's victims. Life would have been so much simpler if she'd never gone to the pub with Jim. Although life would have been much less exciting- and attractive- if she hadn't.

"Hold up, where exactly did you get the key from? I'm simultaneously horrified and impressed" Callie asked.

Sam looked a bit sheepish. "Remember how we met here? You were at the counter and we stumbled out of the back room? We stole a key when we were there"

"Never know when a key can come in handy" Dean smiled.

"Wow, are you sure you two weren't Scouts? You know, 'be prepared' and all" Callie smiled back.

"Never joined. I don't do shorts" Dean replied seriously.

The museum was even creepier at night. They made their way into the main room. The knife had pride of place in the room. Callie vaguely recalled it from her first visit but she'd mainly been taken with reading the walls crammed with information. It hadn't seemed anything special then, nor now. It was a rusty looking thing.

"You do it" Dean ordered to Sam.

Sam looked grossed out. "No, you do it"

"I'm the older brother"

"Yeah, like that's my fault?"

"I told you to do it"

"And I'm telling you no" Sam replied fiercely.

"Woah, what's going on?" Callie intervened.

Sam sighed, responding to a threatening look from Dean. "Fine, I'll do it" He raised the knife to his mouth and stuck out the tiniest portion of his tongue. It made contact with the knife. Callie, not to mention Dean, went "eww". Sam drew the knife away quickly. "Ugh, yep, it's blood"

"You licked the knife to see if there was blood on it?" Callie asked, looking horrified at Sam.

"Well it's not like we can just send it off to a lab for them to 'CSI' it for us" Dean responded.

"So if we're right, this knife is part of his earthly remains, his blood is on this from the last attack when Mary Kelly fought back and clearly wounded him. And now we burn it. And he's gone for good. Hopefully" Sam added, sounding extremely hopeful himself.

* * *

"Ok, this is starting to become scarily familiar" Callie noted, hands on her hips, as they all stood around watching a fire.

Sam had put together a makeshift furnace in a trashcan and the knife was safely ensconced inside. Sparks crackled as the knife slowly began to heat up and the air was tinged with the coppery smell of blood.

She sat down on the ground, not caring what she looked like, suddenly tired as the events of the day caught up with her. She gingerly pressed her stomach, trying to get a sense of how badly she was hurt.

Dean glanced at her briefly, not wanting to take his eyes off the knife for too long. "How you holding up there, skipper?"

She smiled at his odd choice of nickname and nodded. "I'm fine. I just really want this night to be over"

"Yeah, you and me both"

"How do you do this all the time? All this running around and shooting at things that most people don't even think exist" she asked.

"Well it not always shooting, sometimes there are knives" Dean replied. "And even once or twice, a crossbow. Which was awesome"

Sam used a stick to poke the remnants of the fire to try and hurry the knife up in melting. The knife was at least glowing but it clearly was going to take some time.

Abruptly the trashcan tipped over. Nobody had been standing particularly close enough to have moved it.

"Callie!" Sam's voice was urgent.

She didn't need to be told twice. She moved quickly to her feet but as she tried to get to him, something was in her way that she knocked into. She scrambled backwards, trying to get out of reach of what she knew was Jack. Both Dean and Sam had their guns pulled out, ready to fire, but were unable to for fear of hitting Callie in the tight space of the alley. She reversed slowly until she could feel the wall against her back. At least that was one less angle he could grab her from. Her senses strained to feel for the slightest inkling that Jack was near her.

The overturned trashcan scraped slightly on the ground. All eyes flew to it. The knife slowly moved out of the bin as if under its own steam. Then suddenly it flew in the air to a point about ten metres from Callie. It hovered in the air. Callie didn't even have time to blink before Jack materialised. He now had two knives in his hands, one was the small scalpel that they'd been trying to destroy and the other was a wicked looking blade. The word 'machete' sprung to mind.

"And now he has two knives" Dean muttered reproachfully, as if this whole knife burning expedition hadn't been his own idea.

Now that they could see where Jack was, they opened fire. The rock salt shot met with resistance but slowly Jack kept coming. Callie ran behind the boys. Jack threw the scalpel down like a petulant child and disappeared.

* * *

They remained alert for a full minute before letting their guard down.

"This, quite frankly, is getting ridiculous" Callie announced.

"You're telling me" Dean joked.

"Come on, we should get Callie out of here" Sam said, beginning to walk back the way they'd come.

"Sam, the thing's so full of rock salt, he should quite literally keel over and die. Well, re-die." Dean quipped.

Callie managed a weak laugh. "Yeah, we could just wring him out over our chips and they'd be nicely salted"

"Whatever, let's just go" Sam walked briskly out of the alley.

"He always gets a little PMS-y when we're smack bang in the middle of a case" Dean confided. He looked at her again, more carefully this time.

Callie raised her hands in protest. "If you ask me one more time if I'm ok, I'll take that gun and shoot you myself"

Dean smiled. "Then I know you're alright"

The car wasn't parked too far away. Callie was on edge. Every noise made her jump. She'd almost died of fright when an ordinary man had appeared from around a corner walking home after a night on the town.

Dean and Callie approached the car which Sam was leaning on. He didn't meet her eye as she stood next to him waiting for Dean to unlock the car doors.

* * *

The car's engine lulled Callie to sleep. She sat up startled as the car came to a stop. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep. She peered out the window into the darkness. They weren't at Jim's place. They were outside a small motel that seemed too quiet and poky to be in London.

"Where are we?" She'd forgotten that she'd only known the Winchesters for a few days and that they practically were strangers. This turn of events had made her wary again.

"We're at our motel. We were talking in the car about how you should stay with us for the night, until we can work out how to get rid of Jack" Dean said. From his tone of voice, it was clear that this wasn't a topic for discussion, this was an order. He was simply doing her a courtesy by telling her what was happening. He then smiled, lightening the mood. "We didn't realise you were asleep. When you didn't say anything, we thought you were just accepting it all with a martyr's silence"

"I literally can not stay here with you. My brother will freak." She felt her voice raise in a tone close to panic. They didn't know how protective her brother was of her. And although she was sure that the boys could keep her safe, she just wanted to go home.

Their faces were stony sure.

"Lookit, I mean, you're brothers, right? If one of you didn't come back, the other would start to worry, to think something might have gone wrong"

"Hell, no, I'd think Sam had gotten lucky for once in his short life" Dean laughed.

Sam glared at his brother.

She was losing them, this wasn't working. She decided to try another tact.

"If I don't come home tonight, well what's left of tonight, Jim will have half of the London police out looking for me. And he'll guess I'm with you. And I think the last thing you two want is for half of the boys in blue to be out looking not just for me, but for you"

"You can call him from the room" Dean said, getting ready to get out of the car and gesturing that she should do the same.

"And tell him what?!"

"That you met a guy" He paused. "That you met two guys, if you like"

Sam interrupted. "Dean, she's right. Anyway, there's not much of night to be had, only a couple of hours. And like you said, he's shot full of rock salt, he'll be weak"

Dean gave his brother a confused look before shrugging. "Fine, have it your way". He put the key back into the ignition.

"Hold on, I'm just going to grab something" Sam said, getting out of the car and heading over to their motel room.

Dean and Callie sat in the car. The silence lingered on and both were glad when they saw Sam reappearing from the room.

He got back in the car and turned to face Callie. He held out his hand to give her something. She couldn't quite see what it was but took it anyway. It was smooth and cool in her hand. Dean craned his neck to see what it was. She held it up for him. It was a bracelet made up of jet black stones.

Dean made an approving face. "Nice"

"Bobby gave it to me a couple of months back. It's obsidian," he explained to Callie, "it protects the wearer from spirit entities. I've seen the way he looks at you. He's missed you twice now, let's not make it third time lucky, ok?"

Sam's earnest speech rang in the silence in the car. Callie smiled at him and put the bracelet on, grateful that the dark hid her blush. Dean cleared his throat and started up the car. Then after a few seconds, turned on the radio. It was tuned to one of those classic rock stations. The familiar guitar anthems helped her to relax.

It seemed to take an age to reach Jim's place but it was probably only half an hour. Callie hesitated as she got out, wondering what to say as a goodbye. In the end she didn't say anything. There was nothing that needed to be said.


	10. Chapter 10

She could see with a sinking heart as she climbed the stairs, that the lights in Jim's apartment were still on. It was half past two in the morning, not too bad by her usual standards at home but the fact that she was mixing with the Winchester boys and that this was her second late night in a row meant that her brother would be pissed, to say the least.

She opened the door and tried a smile. Jim smiled back. Callie was happy, clearly he wasn't too mad.

"You should have called" he reprimanded.

"I'm sorry, I forgot the time"

His casual glance at her took in her change of clothes and the fact that she looked incredibly pale and drained.

"You look like you've seen a ghost" he said.

Callie couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. Her life had just taken a sharp detour into crazy terrain. She was a nice normal girl from New York on a trip to London. She didn't run around salting and burning dead bodies and getting knifed by hundred year old serial killers.

Jim gave her an odd look. "Ok, on a scale of one to drunk, how drunk _are _you? At least, I hope it's only alcohol"

Callie collapsed onto the sofa. Her shoulders were still shaking from laughter but it had died down somewhat. "Not drunk, not even a little"

"Can I ask whose clothes you're wearing or do I not want to know?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter anyway. I'm going to bed. I've had a busy day." She paused before entering her bedroom. "Oh and b the w, you need to stop waiting up for me"

"You're my little sister and I only have one of those. I kinda need to keep an eye on you. Besides, I'm pretty sure the parents would kill me if anything happened to you. So don't go giving them a reason. I like living, ok?"

"I promise things are going to get a lot less crazy soon"

"Yeah, like that'll ever happen when you're involved"

"You have no idea" she laughed.

She moved into her room and shut the door, a smile still on her face. She tried not to wince too much as she took off Sam's shirt. Once in bed though, she didn't even have time to go over the day in her mind before she promptly fell asleep.

* * *

"How certain are we that this is going to work?" Callie asked.

It was night time and they were back in the car, going over the plan a final time.

"Pretty sure. We've talked it over with a few people we know and anyway, it won't hurt to try something new" Dean said.

"So, I walk around Whitechapel, you walk a safe distance behind me. He attacks me and while he's busy killing me and whatnot, you get behind him and spray him with your blood"

"Yep. We figure his spirit must be feeding off female blood, so male blood must counteract it" Dean replied.

"One small problem: what if he decides to just cut my throat there and then?" Callie asked.

"He won't" Dean shrugged it off.

"But what if he does?"

"He won't" Sam assured her.

Her face remained troubled but she was slightly reassured. Only slightly though. "And what if it doesn't work? The male blood, I mean"

"Then we'll try something else tomorrow night, and the night after that." Dean replied.

"Ok then, let's do this" she said, stepping out of the car.

It was like he'd been waiting for her. The second she was outside, Jack grabbed her. He forced her against the car and this time there was no mistaking the knife going into her. He cut along up her arm, opening up a vein. Dean was on the same side of the car as her and he hurried out to try and stop Jack. Jack momentarily took the knife away from Callie and used it to slice Dean cleanly across the throat. Dean dropped to the ground. Callie heard Sam call his brother's name.

Everything moved in slow motion. Sam ran to his brother's side. He glanced up at her only once. She could see the hatred in his eyes, knowing that it was all her fault that Dean was going to die.

Callie woke herself up by calling out. She didn't know what she was yelling but she was glad that she was awake. Her body was cold and clammy from the sweat that was on her. She ran her fingers over her arm to check that there wasn't blood. Although in the darkness, she couldn't tell if the wetness was from sweat or blood.

The overhead light switched on but she couldn't see, blinking in the sudden brightness. Her brother came over to her bed and sat on the edge. She blinked a couple more times, her eyes slowly adjusting. She quickly checked her arm in the light. Her arm was slick with sweat, not anything else. She heaved a sigh of relief.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head, suddenly unable to speak with the nearness of tears. She could hardly hear her brother's voice. Her mind was still in her dream. One brother was dead and the other hated her. She didn't know which was worse. She'd never forgive herself if anything happened to them because of her.

"Did something happen to you tonight? Did anyone hurt you?" Jim's voice brought her back to reality.

She looked at him blankly and then shook her head. She coughed to clear her throat and then winced because of her stomach. She covered it up with a shiver and pulled the bedclothes tighter around her.

"Maybe you're getting sick. Do you want me to get anything?"

Her brother's kindness threatened to bring the tears back. But she swallowed hard. "It was just a bad dream. I just need to get back to sleep, I'll be fine in the morning"

Jim still looked concerned but there was nothing much he could do. She could see on his face the battle between the nosey cop and the sensitive brother. Luckily for her, brotherly love won out. He left the room, turning off the light as he left.

Back in the darkness, Callie was plunged back into the memory of her dream. It had all been so real. She curled up into a ball, bringing her hands underneath her head. She felt the stones on the bracelet dig into her arm and cheek. She pulled her hands away from her face. She'd forgotten about the bracelet. She fingered the stones gently. They'd grown warm from being close to her skin. Sam didn't hate her, Dean wasn't dead. She smiled. Nothing could kill Dean, he was so full of life. She shut her eyes, comforted.

* * *

The next time she woke up, it was still dark. She glanced at the digital bedside clock. It had only been an hour since her nightmare. She heard a slight movement in her room and her eyes were drawn to the sound. Jim was sitting on the chair beside her bed. She felt a smile tug at her mouth. This was exactly what her dad had done if she'd been sick when she was younger. And now Jim was carrying on the tradition.

"Is this another nightmare?" she teased. "My creepy brother watching me in my sleep"

There was silence.

"Falling asleep on duty? Not very impressive" she continued, louder this time, hoping to wake him.

Silence again.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck start to prickle. She fumbled for the lamp on the bedside table. In her haste, she knocked the clock off the table but at last, the light was on. She turned quickly, afraid of what might have happened while she took her eyes off the figure.

And there he was. Jack. Sitting in her room, watching her. For the first time, she could see him properly. He was wearing a long brown coat and his knife was nowhere to be seen. She imagined it was tucked into one of the pockets on his coat. He had made himself comfortable in the chair, his long legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His arms were casually folded. But it was his face that Callie couldn't take her eyes from. The face had probably been quite handsome in life but the eyes detracted from that. They were fixed on her with an intensity that would have made her shudder if she could have moved. They had a hollow haunted look to them. He saw that he had her full attention and gave her a lazy smile. He had all the time in the world. The smile had a definite sexy quality to it and Callie found herself smiling back. Then she realised what she'd just done and the smile wiped off her face to be replaced with a disgusted look. Jack was amused and his eyes softened somewhat. He stood up and seemed about to take a step forward when a quick expression of pain flickered across his face. He looked down at her wrist and saw the bracelet. He seemed puzzled as to whether that was what was causing him the pain. He took another step back to the chair and removed his coat. He then looked at her expectantly.

The knowledge that he couldn't touch her while she had the bracelet on gave her some of her old fire back. "What, you think this is like some kind of game? You remove an article of clothing and then _I _do? I'm not really that kind of girl"

He shrugged and smiled as if to say _worth a try_. He sat back down and began unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt sleeves and rolling them up. He showed her his unadorned wrists and then pointed at her wrist.

"Yeah, right" she scoffed. "Like I'm going to take the bracelet off. Look, I'm flattered and all that you came to visit but I'm really tired. Just in case you forgot, you did this to me earlier in the night" She pulled up her top slightly to reveal the cuts underneath. "I'm not exactly in the mood for some ghostly booty call. And I hate charades. So I'm going to sleep"

She turned the light off and rolled over on her side, facing away from Jack. The temperature in the room instantly dropped. She could feel the anger flowing off him. She wanted to turn back around and face him but she couldn't move. The force of his rage pinned her where she was. The word _bitch_ echoed in her mind. And then he was gone. She quickly flicked on the light but he was definitely gone. And with what was quickly becoming a habit for her, she slept with her light on.


	11. Chapter 11

A knocking on her bedroom door woke her. It wasn't like Jim to knock. She croaked a "come in" with a voice still thick with sleep. The door opened and in walked Sam and Dean. She sat up abruptly and pulled the covers up to her chin.

"What are you doing here?" Ok, _now_ she was wide awake.

Both boys spotted the single chair in the room at the same time and made a play for it. Dean won out and with a smug look, sat down. Sam looked uncomfortably at the end of Callie's bed.

Callie pulled her legs up to sit in a cross legged position. "I promise, it's safe to sit there. You won't get girl germs" She then turned on her two guests. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"Marie let us in downstairs. We said we worked with Jim. She's bringing up scones. Have I said before how much I love the British?" Dean sighed happily.

"Why are you here?" Callie asked.

"We were researching last night and we think we've come up with a way to get rid of Jack. We decided to come over and surprise you with it this morning"

"Well, mission completed, congrats, ya surprised me"

There was silence in the room after that. Dean was just lounging in the chair, enjoying her discomfort. Sam still had yet to say anything. He was perched on her bed, ready to spring off at any moment. She couldn't help it, she slowly uncrossed one of her legs and moved it down the bed, aiming for Sam. Without taking his eyes off the floor, he quickly grabbed her foot and held it in position. She was the one who was surprised and she let out a half shriek. He turned to look at her and grinned. She laughed.

"So do you two want me to leave the room or something?" Dean asked.

Callie cleared her throat. "Um, no, that's ok. But actually you can both leave the room, I should get dressed" Callie said.

* * *

As she got dressed, she heard Marie come into the living room and heard the boys, more specifically Dean, charming her. She waited until Marie left before coming back into the living room. The boys were eating the scones already.

"How's your ..?" Dean asked in between mouthfuls, motioning vaguely in the area of her abdomen.

"Oh, it's ok" she waved off the question, reaching for one of the scones.

They sat happily for a while eating, until Callie choked on a mouthful due to a sudden intake of breath.

"I completely forgot to tell you! Jack visited me last night"

The boys looked at each other. And then at her.

"Jack the Ripper visited you last night and you wait forty five minutes before you decide to inform us of this?!" Dean exploded.

She scrunched up her nose. "I forgot. I got sidetracked, you appeared randomly in my room and then there were scones"

They sat there waiting for her to elaborate. Callie didn't really know what to say.

"What did he want?" Sam finally asked.

"I don't know. He almost seemed to just want me. He wanted me to take the bracelet off. He at first tried to be friendly and then when that didn't work, he got pissed."

"Did he say anything?" Sam asked.

Callie shook her head. "I don't think he _can_ say anything. He just acted out what he wanted"

"What did he look like?" Dean asked.

Callie pressed her lips together and shrugged.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You don't know?"

Callie sighed. "Hot. He looked hot"

Sam tried to suppress a laugh. Dean just looked vaguely disturbed.

"You did ask" Callie told Dean. "And moving right along, your original reason for visiting me: you said you had a way to get rid of him"

"Are you sure you want to get rid of him, now you've seen what a hottie he is?" Dean mumbled, reaching into a rucksack and pulling out a leather journal.

Callie rolled her eyes and moved onto the sofa next to Dean, so she could see the book. He opened it up and flicked forward a couple of pages. He touched the pages almost reverently.

"There's a way we can trap him into an object, seal it up and then bury it" Sam explained from the other side of Dean. "It's pretty complicated but we've done similar stuff like this before with demons"

"Demons? Ok, I'm not even going to ask" Callie said, sitting back on the sofa.

"See Sam, and you said she wasn't smart" Dean said, pulling bottles out of the rucksack and going into the kitchen to fill them up with water.

"I didn't say that" he called after Dean. He turned quickly to Callie. "I didn't say that" he told her sincerely.

She laughed.

The journal was right in front of her, so she opened it on the table, turning the pages every few minutes. The writing was cramped but legible. The writer had obviously had a lot of information to get out onto the page. Wendigos, mysterious signs, it was absolutely fascinating. Before she could get too absorbed, Sam deftly took the book away from her. His manner made her feel ashamed of herself, as if she had gone somewhere unwanted, uninvited.

"I'm sorry" she babbled, motioning at the book.

Sam smiled and shook his head. "It doesn't matter"

"How long have you been keeping that diary?" she asked.

Sam seemed surprised. "Oh, no, it's not mine. It's my dad's. Was my dad's. He wrote down everything he knew in here."

Callie didn't know what to say. Never having lost anyone herself, she was always at a loss as to what to say to people who had. "So it's kind of like he's helping you now. Like he's still with you" She thought that was a pretty good effort.

Sam smiled sadly at her. She noticed that his sadness didn't seem because his father had died, instead the sadness was aimed at her, like he was sad because she didn't understand. She decided not to push the topic any further. And in doing so, she changed topics completely.

"So I had a dream last night that we had a plan to get rid of Jack by spraying him with male blood"

Although she'd been talking to Sam, Dean looked up confused. "Why would that work?"

"I don't know!" Callie was getting strangely defensive now of the plan in her dream. "Anyway, you were the one that suggested it. And you'd said that it had worked before"

"Did it work?" Dean asked.

"I don't remember" she answered plainly. She didn't want to think about what had happened in her dream.

Dean sat back in his chair, pondering the 'male blood' scheme. "We'll have to try it out some time. Obviously not on this ghost though, on one that's a little less nasty" Dean went back to fiddling with a gun. Callie hoped that the doors were locked so that Marie couldn't pop back in any time soon.

"So because Jack is always near female blood, we thought that male blood would get rid of him?" Sam asked.

"I think that was the theory behind it. My subconscious comes up with a lot of crazy stuff"

Sam thought about it for a while. "It doesn't sound too bad. We actually could give it a go"

"Ok but if anything goes wrong, you're in no way allowed to blame me"

"Deal" Sam agreed.

Dean cut into their conversation. "And at least now Jack's focussed on you. He won't go after others at least while you're still available"

"Well I'm glad that things are working out for you so well" Callie responded, slightly offended. She knew what Dean meant, but still… surely he could come up with another way to say it.

Sam, sensing the tension between the two, stood up and motioned for Callie to join him. "Come on, we should probably pick out a site and get it ready for tonight"

Dean started collecting together his things and followed them out the door. He was almost there when he turned around and grabbed the rest of the scones. "Never know when these might come in handy"


	12. Chapter 12

Whitechapel in broad daylight was a completely different story to the suburb at night. It was bustling with people. Despite the fact that she'd seen it disproved right in front of her eyes, Callie still believed in the safety of numbers. The brothers, on the other hand, eyed all the street traffic warily. Sam pulled out a crumpled map from a jacket pocket. He studied it and Callie moved so that she could see it too.

"These are the spots where Wellenby's previously attacked his victims" Sam pointed out the meaning behind certain dots on the map. "It's sort of in a circle, so we should pick a place that's in that area"

Dean looked up and down the busy street that they were on. "Ok, well this one is definitely off limits." He wandered over to look at the map. "Let's try that one, a couple of streets over"

Callie couldn't quite keep in step with the boys, both were taller with longer legs. At first she tried, and then as the realisation that her task was impossible sunk in, she slowed down, until eventually she was back at her normal dawdling pace.

They were in a shopping area and Callie stopped several times to look in store windows. She hadn't been shopping once since arriving in London. She wasn't really the type of girl who enjoyed shopping, she found it got tedious very quickly, which always scored her points with guys but the stores were different from the ones back home. She was peering into the window of a small antiques store when she felt someone grab her arm and pull her onwards.

"Come on!" Dean sighed. "You're worse than Sammy. I don't want to have to keep on looking out for you"

Callie allowed herself to be walked back to where Sam was standing, a couple of metres off. Sam watched them with an amused expression on his face. Dean didn't let go of her arm as they walked off. After a few minutes, Callie tried to loosen her arm that was hooked through his. He didn't even break his stride, he kept walking, merely looked down and said "Nope, don't even think about it"

"Well slow down then"

"You keep up" Dean retorted.

Callie made a scoffing sound. This was ridiculous, he was treating her like a child. Well, if he wanted a kid, he was going to get one. She dug in her heels to try and stop. Unfortunately it worked.

Dean came to a stop and let go of her arm. He turned furiously on her. "Look, I don't have time for this. I'm trying to do my job. I'm trying to get rid of a serial killing ghost. If we don't do this, I don't know when the next load of hunters will be in town to get rid of Jack. That means literally hundreds of girls could be murdered. And just in case you forgot, you're first in line"

Callie was horrified to find tears filling her eyes. She never cried, she saw it as a sign of weakness. And now she was about to do it for the second time in as many days. She stormed off in the opposite direction. She heard Dean groan in annoyance but didn't care.

* * *

Ten minutes later, she'd blown off all her steam. But she knew that she couldn't go back, not after the way she'd behaved. She knew that Dean had had every right to yell at her, she just hated the fact that all she did was tag along after them, like a wayward annoying kid sister. She walked into a café to collect her thoughts.

No sooner had she sat down than Sam joined her. He smiled hesitantly at her. "You ok?"

She nodded. Tears came to the surface again. She let out a sound of frustration. "I don't know what's wrong with me"

Sam handed her a serviette. Callie wiped away the tears before they could spill over. That way it didn't count as crying. A waitress had been walking over to take their order but when she saw Callie holding a napkin to her eyes, she made a quick detour away from the table. But not before shooting Sam with an accusatory glare. It made Callie feel a little bit better even though Sam wasn't the one to blame.

"You've had a rough couple of days. And this whole Wellenby thing got out of control very quickly. We thought we'd gotten rid of him, then we hadn't, then he visits you in your room. That's enough to send anyone out of kilter"

"Ok, I like that explanation. It doesn't make me sound like some pathetic loser"

Sam looked at her in disbelief. "Are you kidding? Most people just refuse to accept what they've seen or turn into a quivering mass on the floor. You're way ahead of the game"

"Ok and I like that explanation too" she smiled.

"You ready to go back?" he asked.

"You know what? I think you guys have got this one. Maybe I'll see you when it's all over"

"Uh, Callie, we kind of need you"

Callie stared at Sam.

"In case you hadn't noticed, a certain someone has taken a shine to you. Remember, we're doing your favourite thing tonight: using you as bait"

Callie sighed dramatically. "No, Sam, you forget. It's _one _of my favourite thing. Smack in between getting a colonoscopy and taking exams"

Sam laughed. "Sorry, sorry. My mistake" He paused. "You coming?"

Callie nodded and followed him outside. Dean was there, leaning nonchalantly against a lamppost. He straightened up upon seeing Callie.

"You still love me, right? You're not going to slap me in the face, are you?"

Callie brightened up. "I hadn't even thought about doing that. And just so you know, I'd never slap you. I'd punch you"

"Aw, you still love me" Dean smiled triumphantly.

She allowed him a small smile before walking off to their next destination.

* * *

"Ok, I think this is it".

They stood surveying the scene. It was a small dead end alley off the main street. Its only purpose was to serve as a holding place for trash cans and dumpsters. It smelled accordingly.

Dean took the battered rucksack off and opened it up. He pulled out the journal and two pieces of chalk. He handed one to Sam and opened the journal up. When he found the page he wanted, he walked over to Sam to show him. Together they studied the page and then began walking out the distance that they would need. When they'd walked three steps apart from each other, they bent down and began drawing with the chalk. Sam was working on an intricate symbol and Dean walked around, marking out a medium sized circle. The circle was in the middle of the alley, far enough away from the entrance to hopefully avoid any curious stares.

Dean looked up and saw her watching them. He broke off a piece of his chalk and handed it to her. "There's a page in the journal, and it's got lots of symbols on it. There's a symbol, looks like a wavy line with some lines coming off it? Draw that on the back wall"

Callie found the page and the symbol Dean was talking about. It was fairly simple and she carefully copied it out onto the back wall of the alley. It took her a good fifteen minutes. When she was done, she went back out to the entrance of the alley to keep a lookout for anyone that might want to interfere with what they were doing; police, nosey old ladies, etc, etc. She saw Dean check on the symbol that she'd drawn. He caught her stare and gave her a brief nod. She'd done good. She smiled happily and turned her attention back to the street.

"Nice" Sam said to his brother in a low voice.

Dean shrugged. "If it keeps her busy, then she's out of our hair, then I'm happy. And who knows, maybe after we're gone the locals will appreciate an ancient symbol for 'forest' on that wall"

Sam laughed softly and concentrated more on what _he_ was supposed to be doing. They needed to get this exactly right. One mistake could cost them everything.

* * *

An hour later, Sam and Dean stepped back to survey their work. The chalk circle, with the symbols within, was completed.

"Ok, now what?" Callie asked.

"Now we wait for nightfall" Dean said.

"Pub or café?" Callie asked, starting to walk off.

'No, we have to wait here. Make sure nobody scuffs the marks, accidentally or not. If any line gets broken it renders the whole ritual void" Sam explained.

"Oh" she replied. They had at least four hours before it got even remotely dark. And Jack seemed to prefer the wee hours of the morning. They were in for a long night.

Callie perched herself glumly on the kerb.

"You two take first watch. I'll go and find something we can trap Jack into" Dean announced, walking off quickly before either of them could complain.

Sam took a seat next to her, taking a little time to get himself comfortable on the ground due to his long limbs. When he was finally in position, his knees were up around his ears.

"Maybe we should hit up that bench," Callie offered. "It might make life a bit easier"

Sam gratefully got up quickly and they made their way over to the bench nearby. It was positioned so that they could still see if anyone tried to enter the alley.

Once they were seated, Sam handed the journal over to Callie. "Last page"

She was a little puzzled but she turned to the last page. The page was filled with writing. She peered at it closely. "Is that Latin?" she asked.

"Yep. It's the ritual we're going to use to get rid of Jack. I had a look at it last night but I need help memorising it"

"Why don't you just read it?"

"Just in case something happens to the book. You never know what might happen" He looked at Callie's face which seemed to take on a nervous expression. "_Not_ that anything will happen"

"You said that last time" she retorted, a little grumpily.

There was a silence. Sam scratched at a mark on his jeans. Callie sighed and read the first line. "_Spiritus audite mihi_". Sam took up the next line.

They passed an hour, then two, in that way. By now, even Callie knew the damn thing by heart. And she was starting to get hungry. She got cranky when she got hungry. At last, she spotted Dean walking towards them. He was carrying a bag of chips and happily munching on them. A plastic bag swung at his side.

Dean offered them a chip. Sam refused but Callie took a handful.

"What did you end up getting?" Sam asked.

Dean pulled out a Tupperware container with a triumphant 'ta-da'. Both Callie and Sam looked at one another.

"Dean, that's not going to hold" Sam told his brother.

"Course it will" Dean replied.

"Doesn't plastic erode over time?" Callie asked. "In like a hundred years, he'll be back out"

Sam sighed loudly. "_I'll _go and get something. I'll be back"

As Sam walked off, Dean noted "I think he's the only person who doesn't know that when you say 'I'll be back', you have to say it like the Terminator"

Callie laughed. "Shame"

They passed the chips back and forth between them. Callie was impressed that Dean was sharing, let alone knew how to.

While they waited for Sam to return, Dean practised his pick up lines and various scenarios on Callie, as he wanted an 'unbiased female opinion' on what would and wouldn't work. She was strangely impressed at the extent and calibre of Dean's moves. Although they'd probably only work if the girl (or girls, as some scenarios did require more than one girl. Callie didn't ask for clarification) was slightly drunk. But she didn't think Dean had much problem picking up girls.

Just as Callie was telling Dean where he might improve on his 'limo driver' scenario, Sam returned. He overheard the last part of their conversation and looked a bit confused. He shook his head as if to clear it and then pulled out of his shopping bag a small safety deposit box.

Dean looked it over casually and shrugged. "I guess that'll work too"


	13. Chapter 13

It took a l-o-n-g time but finally night fell. Callie began to shiver, she didn't know whether it was from the cold or from fear. She knew one way or another that this was all ending tonight. A little past midnight, Dean cleared his throat. Callie jumped and he put his arm soothingly on hers.

"It's time" he announced solemnly. He paused before grinning suddenly. "I've always wanted to say that"

This made Callie smile and for a split second, she felt a fraction better. She slowly entered the circle, taking care not to tread on any of the chalk lines. She didn't know whether it was her imagination or not but the air seemed thicker here, as if not quite from this world. She shivered again and placed the small safety deposit box next to her in the centre.

"You have to take off the bracelet" Sam said from his position beside a dumpster.

"What?" This wasn't part of the plan. They'd never discussed this. Her right hand automatically went around her left wrist, protecting the bracelet.

"Jack knows that he can't do anything to you while you're wearing the bracelet. He's seen you with it on, he can now sense whether you're wearing it or not" Sam explained.

"Bullshit" Callie retorted. "How do you know that?"

Dean shrugged. "We don't but it's a safe bet"

"It is not a safe bet. Nothing's safe when that freak is involved. There is no _way_ I'm taking off this bracelet". By now she had her hands on her hips, furious.

The air shimmered in the circle causing them to all stop suddenly.

"Was that you?" Dean asked her.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't know"

The boys were on alert. They had their guns trained on Callie in case Jack showed unexpectedly. The air shimmered again, a little way off, this time at the mouth of the entrance of the alleyway. She had a flashback to a family vacation she'd taken as a kid. They'd driven through Texas in the summer and on the horizon, the air above the road had shimmered with the heat coming off the bitumen. This was what she was seeing now. But this time, there was no heat. The shimmer grew clearer until she knew that it was only a matter of time before Jack materialised. Making a gut decision that she hoped she wouldn't regret, she pulled off the bracelet, lightening quick, and threw it to Dean who was in her line of vision. He caught it and pocketed it.

And there was Jack, standing at the entrance to the alley, effectively blocking off the one exit. He unhurriedly walked towards her, seductively, confident in his power over her. He reminded her of a nature documentary, like a snake slowly sliding towards its prey. What was with all the memories all of a sudden? Shit, what if this was her life flashing before her eyes? She took in a deep shaky breath. Every fibre of her being was screaming at her to run, but truth be told, Callie didn't think her legs could work. She was like a little rabbit caught in the headlights. Only a few more steps and Wellenby would be caught inside the circle. She stood her ground and clenched her jaw, her eyes daring him to make another step towards her. And still he came.

"Ok, now!" Sam yelled.

She awoke out of her reverie and sprinted out of the circle. She made her way to Dean, who instantly gave her back the bracelet. She put it straight back on. She sat down, almost reverently fingering the small stones, as a nun might to her rosary. She leant her back against the cool concrete wall, hearing the blood pounding in her ears. A minute must have passed before she even thought to look back at the circle.

Jack was well and truly trapped. His face was furious. He raged around the circle, trying repeatedly to get out but each time he reached the edge, it was as if an invisible force field held him back. Callie was glad that he couldn't speak, otherwise the air would have been blue with his cursing. Sam walked over to where Dean and Callie were. The lamplight that was stationed across from the alley flickered on and off. Callie could see a light on above a shop that dimmed and brightened alternately. The neon sign advertising the shop was doing the same, until finally it blew with a piercing bang.

Callie felt a sharp tug on her jacket and a button flew off from her pocket and towards Jack and into the circle. She looked at him, suddenly frightened. He picked up the button, fingering it, much like how she had touched the stones of her bracelet. He looked back at her, his eyes lighting up, a smile at his mouth. She could see the concentration on his face as their eyes met. A dull ache began at her temples. It took all her strength to tear her eyes away from his gaze. The pain subsided and she reached up to gently touch her right temple. And then the pressure was back, stronger than before. She gave an involuntary gasp.

"Yo Sam, I think he's in her head. Now would be a good time to start your little recital" Dean called.

She was unaware of Sam beginning his Latin chanting. All she could hear were whispers in her head that got louder and clearer the more she listened. She could feel Jack's presence literally inside her head, it was like an icy mist draping over everything, her memories, pieces of trivia, everything. Now random words were becoming clearer. She could pick out odd phrases. He was calling her name, calling her names, begging to be let out. Her name was repeated over and over, faster and faster. She felt the entire contents of her mind judder and shift. And again. Then she realised she was being shaken. With a great effort, she turned to see Dean holding both her arms. It was hard to hear him above the voice in her head. She tried to focus on him but the pull of what was happening in her mind was so much stronger. She felt herself retreat a little more inside herself.

She felt her hair being hooked behind her ear, fingers grazing her cheek and a warm breath in her ear. It tickled and it caused her to flick momentarily to what Dean was saying.

She blinked once or twice, absolutely dumbfounded by what he'd said. She turned and looked abruptly at Dean, her forehead crinkled and her mouth slightly open. His face was inches from hers but once he saw that he had her attention, he pulled away.

"And she's back" he announced.

"'When did you lose your virginity?'" she repeated dazedly.

Sam reached over and pushed his brother's head roughly, never breaking stride from his Latin.

"Where do you live?" Dean asked, changing tact.

"In London?" her voice seemed very far away. Jack was calling to her.

Sam slipped his hand in hers and squeezed.

"In New York" Dean clarified.

"Manhattan"

Her head lolled back and hit the wall she was leaning against with a crack. Her hand flew up to her head and she swore loudly. The real world was becoming much clearer. Jack was fading in her head. It felt like she was trying to wake up after a nap, everything felt heavy. She rested her head on Dean's shoulder and watched Jack. Dean kept up a running commentary of questions, occasionally slipping in a particularly prying question, but then she'd tell him where to go.

Slowly Jack was becoming hard to see. He was turning into mist. He made a last bid effort for her, invisible fingers plucked at her hair. Sam spoke louder and the mist began to move towards the deposit box. It was slowly sucked inside, looking like a genie being called back to a particularly strangely shaped bottle. Dean moved Callie gently from his shoulder and over to Sam. He got up and moved into the circle and firmly slammed the lid down.


	14. Chapter 14

Dean picked up the deposit box. Callie eyed it warily. Despite the fact that it had a padlock on it, Callie didn't trust it. Ghosts went through walls, right? How was a little box supposed to hold him?

Sam picked up on her unease. "Don't worry. The ritual binds him in there. He's there forever"

"Unless someone is dumb enough to open this sucker" Dean rattled the box in his hand. He smiled happily at the thought of Jack being shaken inside.

Callie glanced at Sam. What did he have to say in response to that?

Sam smiled, although not after looking at his brother. "We've got that taken care of too"

Dean shoved the box into his rucksack and pulled out another box, the Tupperware container. He opened the lid and it let out a homely hiss of air. "Scone?" he offered.

She took one but her dry mouth couldn't work up the saliva to properly eat it. She forced down her one mouthful and half heartedly handed it back to Dean, who took it from her and finished it off.

By now they'd returned to the car. Dean put the deposit box safely in the boot. The lid of the boot was decorated in chalk symbols.

"A little extra protection" Dean noted when he saw her staring.

She numbly got into the back seat. She couldn't quite allow herself to believe that it was all over. Case closed and all that jazz. She'd been lulled into a false sense of security before but she wouldn't let it happen again. It seemed that the guys had the same idea. There was a nervous tension in the air.

* * *

About a half hour later, they arrived at their destination: some dockyards along the river Thames. Although it was dark enough to still be the middle of the night, the work day had just started for the London dockworkers.

Callie followed the brothers as they wended their way through the maze of large shipping containers. Callie had no idea where they were going or what they were doing here. She felt as if she was on autopilot. She tried to snap out of it several times on the walk but she just couldn't. She recognised the symptoms of shock in herself and also over tiredness. She reassured herself, it's over, once I get home, I can sleep forever if I want. She'd have said anything to keep herself going. She wanted to see this through to the end. She pressed a rough edge of one of the bracelet's stones into the soft skin at her wrist. The sharp pain caused her to wince but also caused her to wake up a little. Sam caught her wince and looked at her, concerned but she smiled and shook her head. There was nothing wrong.

Finally, after what seemed an age, they came across a dockworker out in the open at a workbench. He was welding two pieces of steel together using a blowtorch. He didn't notice their approach and there was no way of getting his attention, so they simply had to wait. Luckily it didn't take long. The dockworker raised the protective mask from his face and looked at them curiously. They were an odd lot, the last thing one expected to see at four in the morning.

Dean smiled at him. "I was wondering if you could do us a favour. Could you weld this box shut for us?"

The dockworker looked at the box. Then back at Dean. "You want me to weld that shut?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's what I said"

"Why? What's in it?" The dockworker's tone was curious. He also looked the sort that might just try and open the box once it was in his hands.

Dean didn't have an answer ready for that one. "Nothing that matters to you" he snapped.

Instantly he knew that was the wrong move to make. The dockworker made as if to push his mask back down. Callie stole the box from Dean's hands and thrust it into the dockworker's hands. She tossed her hair out of her face and adopted a typical Valley girl stance.

"The box is mine. I just broke up with this guy and then I moved to London to try and get rid of all that bad energy. But I spoke to my guru and my chi is all like messed up, so I put all my negative thoughts into a box. I need it sealed super tight so that the bad things can't escape from inside there." She paused and took a breath for the first time. She then smiled sweetly, cocking her head to the side. "Do you think you could do that for me?"

The dockworker looked bewildered and then shrugged. "Whatever works for ya, love". He pushed down his mask and applied the blowtorch to the box.

She could feel both Sam and Dean staring at her. She didn't take her gaze from the dockworker. "That was me doing my friend Ashleigh. But I toned it down for this occasion"

"Doing your friend Ashleigh, huh?" Dean smirked. "I could stand to hear a little more on that"

Callie was about to respond when the blowtorch stopped its noisy sizzle. The dockworker pushed up his mask and handed her the box, wrapped in an oily rag. "Careful, it's hot"

She nodded. "Thanks hun" She took the box from him. She could feel the heat through the material but it wasn't unbearable. It seemed appropriate that she couldn't hold the box in her bare hands, considering what was inside it. It didn't feel as if there was anything inside the box. At least that might stop a prying person from opening it, if the box was ever discovered.

Dean turned and left, gently bumping her as he walked past, turning her in the direction him and Sam were walking. It was a much nicer version of the same stunt that he often pulled with Sam. She smiled happily and followed behind them.

* * *

They walked alongside the banks of the Thames for a spell.

"What are we looking for?" Callie asked, after the fifth time Dean had stopped, looked around and then continued.

Sam shrugged and then lagged behind slightly to keep Callie company. "You want me to carry that?" He motioned towards the safety deposit box.

Callie shook her head. "No, it's ok". She clutched it tighter to her chest. For some reason she felt safer knowing that she was the one carrying it around. She looked around for Dean. "Hey, where'd Dean go?"

Sam looked around, just as clueless as her.

"Down here" Dean called from somewhere near Callie's feet. She peered down from the riverbank and into the river itself.

The tide was somewhat out, leaving about four feet of mud in which Dean was currently squelching.

"There's steps down a little further along the path" he continued.

"Ugh, we have to go down there?" Callie complained softly to herself.

"You worried you might break a nail?" Sam teased as he made his way towards the stairs.

Callie scoffed and pushed him out of the way so that she could go first down the stairs. "Yeah, I'll break a nail when I punch you for making fun of me"

"Ouch" Sam laughed. "You know, for a girl you talk a lot about punching"

She shrugged. "It's how we settle things in my household"

"See, we aren't that different after all"

* * *

The mud was quite literally disgusting. Callie was glad her sneakers were tightly laced because with each step, she could feel the mud trying to commandeer her shoes. Sam overtook her on his way to Dean.

"Need a hand?"

She glared at him. "Go away"

He laughed again and with a few stride, had reached Dean. Callie, on the other hand, was taking the 'little steps' approach. It was taking a while. Finally she reached them and stood a little ways off, so she could hopefully fool them into thinking she'd been there the whole time.

Dean was crouching beside some stone work along the wall of the river bank. He was using his hands to feel if the stone was crumbling. Sam was doing the same further along the stone wall.

"Callie are you here yet or are you still flailing about in the mud?" Dean asked, without pausing in his task.

"Hey! I've been here the whole time" she responded.

"Uh-huh" Dean didn't sound too convinced. "You still got the box?"

"Yep" she brought it over to him.

He looked at it and sighed. "We're going to need a bigger hole"

"I think I got one" Sam called.

They made their way over to him, Callie finally finding a way to move slightly easier through the mud. Sam had followed a small crack in the wall down into the mud. "I think that we can widen the crack below the mud's surface, making it a better hiding place"

Dean nodded approvingly. "Ok"

Both brothers began rolling up their sleeves.

Callie waved the box. "I'll just hold the box. That's an important job"

It didn't take long for them to dig down into the mud. What took time was widening the crack to make it large enough for the box to fit. Eventually the hole was large enough and Callie handed over the box. Sam slipped it inside and began covering the hole back up with stones. Then the mud. Before long, you'd never have known that anything had happened at that spot, it looked like a regular place along the riverbank.

Dean took a step back to admire his work. "I now defy anyone to find that"

"Ok, you do realise that somebody will now find it?" Callie said. "We might as well dig it up ourselves and start again"

She took a step forward and Sam made as if to stop her but she held her hands out in front of her, warding him off. "Unless you have another shirt you'd care to donate, keep those hands to yourself"

Dean draped his arm over Callie's shoulder. Callie eyed his muddy hands warily. "Callie, you know how I like to celebrate the end of a job?"

"Food?" Callie took a haphazard guess.

"Excellent idea" Dean agreed, making it sound like it was all her suggestion.

* * *

They eventually ended up at the Ten Bells pub. It seemed fitting. After a few drinks, Callie suddenly realised how little sleep she'd gotten in the past two days and how close she was to falling asleep.

"Well boys, I'm going to love you and leave you, otherwise I'll end up facedown on this table and it's not going to be pretty". She decided that a short farewell would probably be best.

Dean stood up abruptly. "We can drop you home, right Sammy? Least we can do for our new ghost hunting friend"

"I'm sure I can find a cab or something"

"Nah, it's fine" Dean insisted, helping her on with her jacket.

Callie and Sam shared a bewildered look.

"I guess so. But just wake me when we get to my place, don't try and kidnap me again"

Sam laughed softly. "That was a one time thing. Promise it won't happen again"

On the way home, the easy banter between the brothers washed over her, lulling her to sleep. Callie fought to stay awake. She knew that she'd probably never see the brothers again and she wanted to remember every last minute with them. She knew it sounded cheesy but they'd saved her life, in more ways than one. Before meeting them, she'd just plodded through her daily routines. Now she knew there was so much more out there, and not just the bad things, the good things too.

When the car slowed outside Jim's place, Callie was out of the car almost before it had stopped. She ducked her head back in through the open window. "Thanks" she said it quietly, hoping it conveyed everything she felt but knowing that it fell hopelessly short.


	15. Chapter 15

This rental car had nothing on the Impala but Dean was still happy to drive

This rental car had nothing on the Impala but Dean was still happy to drive. He liked driving, it was simple, straightforward and you were in control. He glanced over at Sam. "So, I was thinking maybe we could stick around for a little bit".

"Why?" Sam asked.

"You know why"

Sam remained silent, clenching his jaw and continuing to stare out of the window.

"You should marry her. I'm serious," Dean continued in retaliation to Sam's eye roll and pained sigh, "a girl that's not afraid of the things we work with? That's gold. Plus, she's got an in with cops. I'm thinking that'd come in handy, huh?"

The car continued to be silent.

"Well we gotta give Callie's purse back anyway. I figure it's the least we could do" Dean said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small leather purse.

"Where did you get that?" Sam queried, grabbing it from Dean.

"From her jacket pocket. What's the big deal?"

"You stole her purse? Dean, you're unbelievable"

"I know" Dean smirked. "Besides, it's not like I wasn't going to give it back. I mean, technically, _you're_ going to give it back. I figure this is a good thing because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend"

Sam remained silent. He'd learned not to rise to Dean's repartee.

Dean sighed. "Well, we still gotta give her her wallet back, which means you still gotta call Callie, so…"

Sam nodded and snatched the cell phone from Dean's hand. Dean noted that he already knew the number off by heart.

Callie felt strangely nervous as she walked into the cafe. Dean waved nonchalantly to her from the booth. As she walked over, she caught an evil look from the two waitresses behind the counter as they glared at her. Callie smiled smugly at the waitresses. She was starting to get used to the evil glares from the majority of the female population that one received whilst hanging out with the two boys. She slipped into the bench opposite them.

"You look awful" Dean noted with some concern.

Sam visibly winced and shot his wayward brother a _shut up_ look.

Callie laughed. "I'm learning not to take offence to anything you say, Dean. You certainly have your own way of showing you care"

He realised his mistake. "No, I meant that…" he trailed off.

Callie smiled widely. "It's ok, I know what you mean. And I'm fine, nothing that a good night's sleep won't cure"

Sam cleared his throat. "We spoke to a friend of our's and they have a way of contacting the spirits. They felt for the spirit that was causing all the trouble here and it's gone. We can safely say for sure that it was Wellenby who was behind it all"

"So we actually solved the Jack the Ripper case and nobody will ever believe us" Callie sighed. "Which means we also brought to an end the Jack Junior case and again nobody'll know it was us"

Dean leaned back into the booth. "Welcome to our world. You help save mankind and you get absolutely nothing in return, no thanks, no glory"

The waitress came up to their booth, causing their conversation to cease. She smiled with unnecessary warmth and asked for their orders. Callie didn't miss that the waitress was speaking only to the boys. When the boys had ordered (Dean ordering two meals), the waitress reluctantly turned to Callie. On leaving, she smiled again but the boys weren't looking at her and she left, dissatisfied.

"_Two _burgers?" Callie asked Dean.

"What?" he replied innocently. "I'm hungry"

It was the first time that they'd all been together without the case to discuss. Callie had been worried that there would be awkward silences. She didn't really know what they had in common besides Wellenby but she needn't have been concerned. Dean began to chat away about nothing in particular and then the rest of them joined in until Sam excused himself and left the table. "The British really do know their chips" Dean marvelled, holding up a chip for inspection.

"Yep" Callie agreed, stealing the chip from his hand and popping it in her mouth.

"So I was thinking, maybe you and I should hook up. You know, a hot summer fling and all"

Callie shot him a look. "Please, you're so not my type"

"What? Quick witted, charming and with the single handed ability to rock your world?"

"Only one hand?" Callie responded dryly.

Dean wasn't deterred by her tone. "I could provide you with a quick demonstration if you like?"

"Quick? Yep, that definitely sounds like you"

Dean smiled disarmingly and Callie giggled, her tough exterior cracking.

"Worth a shot, right?" he asked.

"A valiant effort if I do say so myself".

At that moment, Sam returned.

"Well, little brother, she's all yours" Dean smiled playfully at Callie, getting up from the table and went over to the counter to pay the bill.

Callie stared very hard at the table. When she finally dared to look up, Sam was still looking at his brother, a mixture of embarrassment and need for revenge written all over his face. He realised she was looking at him and scratched his head to cover his discomfort. "That wasn't unnecessarily embarrassing, now was it?"

Callie laughed. "I think Dean likes to put you on the spot"

"That's what big brothers are for"

"Yep. I know for a fact my brother lives for humiliating me"

"You wanna walk for a bit?" he asked abruptly.

"I don't know, I remember our last walk. We got hopelessly lost and I had to walk for miles. And we all know how I feel about walking."

He laughed. "Ok. You want to go for a walk if I promise to pay attention?"

"Much better. And yes, I will go for that walk with you"

They walked close together, their arms occasionally brushing. They wandered over to Hyde Park and sat on a bench overlooking the lake. It was early afternoon and mothers were walking their babies in prams or helping their toddlers feed the ducks. The sun was shining weakly. It was a beautiful day.

After a few moments of silence, Callie turned to him and stood up. This was never going to work out. "You know what? I'm just gonna go" she said quietly.

"I'm sorry" he replied.

She shook her head, pushing a smile onto her face. "Don't be. It's not your fault. Just bad timing"

He stood up also and faced her. "I'm still sorry about it. Hey, and if I'm ever in New York, right?"

"It wouldn't be the same. I don't think you exactly take vacation time in your line of work. You'd be busy, you'd be on a case"

He smiled. "Then it _would_ be exactly the same"

She returned his smile, genuinely this time. "Well, I guess this is it then. Sam Winchester, I can't exactly say it's been a pleasure but I wouldn't have missed a second of it. Except for the part where I nearly got killed by a hundred year old serial killer. But aside from that, it's actually been a pretty good vacation".

He held out his hand for her to shake. She took it. He pulled her in towards her and leaned down and kissed her.

"The old handshake trick" Callie commented wryly afterwards.

"Works every time"

"_Every_ time, huh?" Callie smiled as she watched him squirm and try to explain himself. She patted his chest. "See you around Sam"

She walked back the way they'd came. She could feel Sam watching her leave. She looked across at the lake glimmering in the sunlight. It definitely was a beautiful day.

The End


End file.
